Arthur
by Lya200
Summary: It has been a great many years since the fall of Arthur Pendragon. Now, with the world on the brink of turmoil once more, a young boy is born in the dead of the night. Years later, young Arthur, with the help of his old friend Merlin, must accept his destiny and navigate through obstacles involving family, death, politics, and love...all in the name of magic and Camelot. Modern!
1. Prologue

_**I felt inclined to start a Merlin story, even though I am terrible at updating things. Ah, well. Might as well get this out there.**_

 _ **Yes, I know that there are several stories involving the return of Arthur, but I plan on making this different. For one thing, the primary character will be Arthur (not including this prologue obviously). Plus there are a few other changes that will hopefully be refreshing. I hope that you can find it within yourselves to enjoy this fic, and please remember to review. I love reviews.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin...this is the part where I am supposed to say "If I did, bla bla bla," but the show ended like how I would have done it. If you so happen to read The Haunted One-Shots, you'd know that I break the feels, so don't expect sunshine and lollipops from me.**_

 _ **I don't think there is anything else to say. Maybe I could do a music to listen to thing...Yeah, I will.**_

-"Apocalypse" by Ross Bugden

-"Plaint" by Kevin MacLeod

 _ **Okay, we good? We good.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Arthur

Prologue

It was a slow night in the ward. Most of the doctors and nurses have went home to be with their families. It was Christmas Eve, after all. Many of them had young children excited for Santa Claus and presents the next morning. A few employees were present, filling out last minute paperwork or taking care of some patients in more critical conditions. After all, it was a time for family.

Then the silent night was ended with a crash. The doors flew open, revealing a man garbed in a gray trench coat over his pajamas. In his arms, he clutched a beautiful young woman who seemed quite out of it. Her wavy blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in golden waves. Unfortunately, the woman was unconscious, but had she been awake, one could see that she had ocean blue eyes. The rounded belly signified that she was pregnant.

"I don't know what happened!" the man pleaded, his brown eyes clouded over with fear. "One moment she was fine, the next she started convulsing, muttering about... _something_. I-I tried to calm her, I did, but...I don't know. Then her water broke, and...I can't explain it, but then she passed out."

The poor youth at the front desk had only wanted to go home to sleep. He debated asking why the distraught man didn't call 911, but now was not the time. No, it was definitely not the time for questions.

As if on cue, the majority of the doctors who remained came in with a cart. They strapped the comatose lady to the object and wheeled her off for an emergency C-Section. They didn't know why, but they knew that it was crucial to save her baby before it was too late.

An elderly nurse led the man to the waiting room. It was nearly empty, save for an old man with a long, silver beard. The dazed man fell to his knees, ignoring the much more comfortable chairs around him. He couldn't lose his fiancée, especially not the baby. It might have not been his, but it didn't affect the man. He was to care for the child as if it was his own.

He put his face in his hands. His fingers subconsciously wove in and out of his stubble. He was stressing over the well-being of his lover. Already, he had lost his previous wife, Jen. Just over the past year, he nearly lost his own son, Kay, to pneumonia. Thankfully he was able to pull through in the end, but it gave the father quite a scare, seeing as Kay was all he had left...until Madalyn came along.

And, boy, was she perfect. She hadn't minded that Kay was not her own. She never showed any jealousy towards Jen. Madalyn was sympathetic and understanding of his hesitancy to moving on past Jen. She died only three years prior to a motorcycle accident. For a while, he was cold to everyone, including his young son, who was only three at the time. He snapped back to reality when his father had a stroke and died. His last words were, "Take care of Kay. He is all you have left now."

And so he did. He started acting like a father again to his son. When he got sick, however, he started to turn away from reality again. However, Madalyn saved him. She stayed with the man in the waiting room as he awaited news on Kay's condition. She was there for her own father, who had an unusually high fever. He comforted Madalyn when her father died, and she rejoiced with him when Kay became better again.

It was then that their relationship officially started. It began with fancy dinners at the Clois Maggiore. The two would feed each other bits of bread smothered in garlic butter and sweet scones with raspberry jam. They would laugh at each other's corny jokes.

Then things got more serious. He soon learned that Madalyn immigrated from America after her mother's death in the year of 1995, the same year Jen died. She wanted to be closer to the rest of her relatives as her father was already poor and sickly. She told him that she just broke up with a previous boyfriend and was looking for a new start in London. Feeling hopeful, he asked Madalyn to marry him. She said yes.

Then came the day when she started slowing. He felt betrayed as they had never slept together. It was clear the child was not his own. He had given Madalyn everything he could, and she turned her back on him.

Madalyn explained that she had no idea whose baby she was carrying. "I just woke up one day, and there it was," she claimed. She tried to convince him that she always remained faithful to her boyfriend. Truly, she was confused as to who the father was.

Still, the trust was broken. The wedding wasn't exactly called off, but the two spent less and less time together, and what time was spent with each other was cold, bitter, and awkward. He started feeling closed off. After all, he didn't want his heart to be broken again. True, the circumstances were different, but his heart couldn't take it.

This night, however, she stood at his doorstep, shaken. Something was off about Madalyn. He could sense it. Kay was already in bed, oblivious to his potential stepmother's presence. The father couldn't find it in his heart to leaver her out in the cold, even if he believed that she cheated on him. He allowed Madalyn to enter his home. It was soon afterwards, as she was sipping warm tea, that Madalyn collapsed into his arms.

Bringing us to now. He regretted not trusting Madalyn when she said that nothing had happened. Now he was convinced that no matter what happened, he'd help Madalyn take care of her child. He loved her. Her smile was the most beautiful that he had ever seen. When she did, her eyes sparkled like the sea. Her laugh was clear. Even during the dark times of their relationship, she remained optimistic. And he hated her for it.***

It wasn't that bad. It was just that she reminded him too much of Jen with her personality. Even when he doubted her, he could still see his dead wife in Madalyn. They were so similar, yet so different. He couldn't think of a time when he doubted his own wife.

He allowed himself a small smile. Regardless, he still loved Madalyn. Only now, when her life was on the line, did the man realize that. Love was forever. Even if the lover died nearly a thousand years prior, it never faded.

The man paled when the elderly nurse returned, her face grave and paled. Quietly, he asked, "Is she...?" The nurse shook her head.

He wailed loudly. The ancient man in the room gave him a look before returning to...whatever it was he was doing. The younger man pounded at the tiled floor, wishing that he could have told her all that there was to say. Now Madalyn was dead.

"What is your name?" the nurse asked soothingly.

"Ector," the man replied. "Ector Thomas." His voice cracked. "The child?"

"He's alive and sleeping." The nursemaid paused. "Before she..."

"Madalyn."

"Before Madalyn died, she whispered a word. A name at that. Arthur. Have the two of you ever discussed baby names?"

Ector shook his head, confused. Madalyn's father's name was Stanley. She never spoke of an Arthur. It dawned on Ector that perhaps Arthur was the name of the father, but almost no one was named that anymore. But the name felt right to him somehow.

"Let Arthur be his name, then," Ector whispered with a grimace. Even with Madalyn dead, he couldn't abandon the baby.

"Now for the paperwork...If you're up to it." The nurse put her hand on his shoulder sympathetically. Ector didn't respond.

* * *

The elderly man left the waiting room abruptly. He paid the grieving Ector and the nurse no attention, more set on his goal. The man at the desk didn't see him leave as he was too busy typing away at a computer. The old man with the beard was quite unnoticed. He liked it that way.

For many years, he lived a hermit. He was tired of watching people he knew and loved grow old and die. True, he aged as well, but one day...he just stopped. He forever stayed in the body of an old man in wait of something.

It was with surprising speed that he crossed the deserted street. Everyone was either in a church or in bed. No one was about. Even the homeless were currently finding shelter in churches.

It was cold, but the man did not appear to mind. Snow danced in front of him, nesting in his silvery Gandalf-styled beard. At least, that is what everyone called it these days, even though it was something different from that. He wore it long before the days of _The Lord of the Rings_ books. Sometimes he cut it to maintain appearances, but generally it was long and flowing.

His clothes choice was odd, to say the least. He wore a long cloak to protect him from the frigid temperatures, as London could become very chilly. He wore snow-proof boots and thick clothes that insulated his body head. Around his neck was a red neckerchief frayed with age. Over his heart was a circular sigil with markings in it. He kept it with him always.

He quickened his pace, and soon the old man was in the outskirts of the city. With no one left who could possibly see him, he flicked his fingers and vanished from sight.

He reappeared at the base of a large hill in Wales miles away. It was in a secluded region, rarely visited by anyone. Those who dared to climb the steep slopes thought that the mountain was odd and generally did not return to Tyle Garw. It was almost as if magic affected their decision to visit the place. It found its home in the Black Mountains.

His upper body strength was impressive. He scaled the rocky terrain. Having many years of practice, he was much better than he was in his youth. He snorted, wondering how his friends would think of him now if they were to see him. They'd probably believe that he was _not_ their scrawny, servant friend.

Finally, he reached an old cave. The air was damp and humid, but it was also warm. He stepped inside, determined. A fire was rekindled inside of him; it died many years ago.

"Kilgharrah!" he called out in deep tones.

The air moved as if a giant fan was blowing. Then a large and very old dragon flew down. It was practically immortal; dragons' lifespans were not measured.

"Merlin!" the great beast declared in pleasure. "It's been nearly half a century since you've last come to my perch. Tell me, Warlock, what is it that you've come to ask of me?"

Merlin growled. He didn't like being called "Warlock." It reminded him too much of what he lost at the Battle of Camlann and his previous life in Camelot. It reminded him of his supposed destiny, the reason why he was here.

"Kilgharrah," he began. "King Arthur has returned."

* * *

 _ **Mild cliffhanger. The next chapter will take place in December of 2015, so prepare yourselves for the time-skip.**_

 _ **This is weird. This is the point where I usually start ranting about something, but since this is my first Merlin FanFiction, then I have nothing to build off of. Maybe next chapter.**_

 _ **I will just make up a quote that I feel like Kilgharrah would say: "The destiny chooses the warlock." Yeah, I should stop.**_

 _ **And I can't respond to guest reviews, either. My life (if it even exists) has all been a lie.**_

 _ **Please review :D. Things will get better, you have my word. Trust me.**_

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	2. Pointless

_**Do you know what is even weirder than starting a new story the day I think it up and then post it? Actually working on the second chapter. I don't even do this for my one-shots.**_

 _ **I split this chapter in half, but hopefully you'll find it in your hearts to enjoy this half just the same. Just wait until next chapter *smirks evilly like Morgana*.**_

 _ **There is also heavy usage of references in this chapter, but since the story takes place in the 21st century, I think that we can let it slide. For Albion's sake.**_

 _ **Just a quick note. I live in the U.S. I don't know how life is in Great Britain. I am just going off of what I see in movies, in television, and what I read online. If I mess up something, and it doesn't look like it was done on purpose, please feel free to correct me. I do not want to offend anyone and, for example, suggest that everyone drinks tea.**_

 _ **You have no idea how weird it was for me to write about Kay, for reasons I won't disclose. By the way, both he and Ector are from the original legend of King Arthur.**_

 _ **Final warning: I will be dealing with world politics/problems in the future. It is said that Arthur would rise again in the time of Albion's greatest need. You can watch the news and see what I mean.**_

-"Fairy Forest" by Adrian von Ziegler

-"Legend" by Adrian von Ziegler

 _ **Okay, nothing else for me to say.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Pointless

He woke up like normal. For most, the day would be treated like Christmas Eve. Then again, most didn't have their birthday on this date. They certainly weren't turning eighteen that day, either.

But it was to be. Arthur was finally a legal adult in England. He expected that he would feel different, but in truth, he felt just like...Arthur. As far as he could see, there was nothing new or exciting about him. Young Arthur examined his arms, hoping for some muscle, seeing as he was on the small side. Nope, nada.

Arthur sighed. It didn't matter. Something special about him turning eighteen was that he was also legally allowed to try spirits, and seeing as it was Christmas Eve, Ector couldn't refuse him. Arthur's mother might have been American, but Arthur was raised here in London. The drinking age was eighteen. It was true that Arthur tried wine when he was sixteen, but Kay was the one who bought it for him. Ector loved the rules too much to break them.

The blond stretched. Light shone in through the scarlet curtains. Kay picked them out. Personally, Arthur hated the color. It was strange. He was fine with all shades of red but this. It made him think of blood. Arthur was born of a C-Section, and he could imagine that his little infant form was covered in the stuff.

But Arthur loved his brother more than anyone, even Ector. Ector was always so uptight and was almost never home. Arthur understood why; Ector worked as the CEO of some company Arthur did not remember the name of. Because of that, however, it was essentially Kay who raised him.

Arthur knew that Kay wasn't the best role model. To put it lightly, he was often drunk off his ass. Kay managed to slide by high school with the bare minimum, but besides that, he made no effort. He sometimes snuck out in the middle of the night only to return days later hungover and stripped of his money (Arthur suspected gambling was involved). Ector threatened Kay constantly that if he didn't find a job, he was going to kick him out. Kay still continued his rambunctious lifestyle.

Besides all that, however, Arthur loved Kay as his own brother. Kay never let the younger boy forget that they weren't related by blood, just by name, but that was what truly mattered. Arthur knew that Kay would be there for him no matter what. That had to count for something, right.

He moved like a zombie all the way to the bathroom. Arthur felt so groggy. Ector would be up soon, and he suspected that Kay was off hanging with Mary Dursley. He never met his brother's supposed girlfriend, but if he had, Arthur was persuaded more or less to say nothing about her. Ector didn't know about her, and he would have Kay's head if he found out. It wasn't the prospect of his only biological son dating but the type of people Kay typically went for. Ector disapproved of them all.

Arthur wasn't supposed to know about Mary. It was an accident, actually. He walked in one day to hear Kay speaking in hushed tones to someone on his iPhone 5S. At first, he thought that it was a drug deal (Arthur wouldn't put it past his brother), but after eavesdropping a little longer, he figured it out. Arthur wasn't an idiot, or at least that is what he told everyone.

Kay was less than happy when he caught Arthur. He dragged him into the bedroom by the neckline of his shirt and slammed the door so loud that it could wake the dead. He hissed threats to Arthur. Arthur wasn't scared of brute force. Often times he would win the brotherly brawls he got in with Kay.

But Kay knew something no one else did. Before he turned to smoking and alcohol, he actually cared for Arthur efficiently. When their father was out of the house, he would be the one to comfort the terrified Arthur after his strange nightmares.

The dreams, or sometimes nightmares, never made much sense. Arthur knew that they were all connected, however. Once he dreamed of a dragon not unlike the one in Goblet of Fire. Another time he dreamed of himself wielding a sword so powerful that it could slay the dead. There were odd dreams too, such as himself being turned into a donkey or him giving broken flowers to a girl (Kay would never let him live it down).

There was a reason that he felt they were all connected. The characters were recurring, but he didn't know them in real life. There was an arrogant king. Arthur supposed that his mind made up the tyrant because he never knew his real father. The king openly despised magic, and Arthur got the impression that he only cared for himself. However, there was this one time when he cried over Arthur's supposed dead body.

There was also a beautiful girl with dark skin and chocolate brown eyes. In some of the dreams, they were just friends, but in the others, they were openly (and sometimes secretly) in love. Her status in the kingdom also seemed to change, ranging from peasant to servant to queen to accused sorceress.

Another character who Arthur couldn't quite figure out was another girl. Her skin was white as snow, her hair dark as night, her jade eyes as piercing as a sword, and her lips the color of blood. Her personality completely flip-flopped. There were times when the woman – no, the lady – would be as selfless as Arthur's mother apparently was. She was shown to be kind, and, even though she often teased, she would be a good friend. However, there were also times when the same lady was cold and conniving. She would come up with cruel and unjust punishments for those who didn't obey. He grew to dislike her

Most importantly of all, there was a boy a few years younger than Arthur. They were polar opposites. He had raven black hair and cobalt blue eyes. His skin was pale like the dark-haired lady. He, however, was warm and loyal. True, he showed himself to be a bumbling idiot, but out of all the characters in his childhood dreams, the boy was the only one Arthur could constantly rely on. Okay, there were other minor characters, but that was beside the point. Constantly, the boy would help him out when no one else in his dreams would. ***

Arthur thought that he was going crazy. For the longest time ever, he was even afraid to tell Kay of his dreams for fear of being rejected and laughed at. When he finally did muster enough courage to tell him face to face, Kay did just that. Then he stopped and put both of his hands on young Arthur's shoulders and told him that the secret of Arthur being a freak was safe with him.

Arthur didn't like how Kay has changed over the years. They grew apart shortly after Kay started high school. Arthur was still a boy at the time, and Kay, the strong-willed brother Arthur grew to admire and see as a role model, started being influenced by drugs. Ten years ago, the brother Arthur knew would never threaten to share Arthur's most carefully guarded secret. Now he wasn't so sure.

Arthur shrugged it off. He wasn't going to let Kay's absence ruin his special day. Finally he wouldn't be treated like a kid by those he loved. Beyond that was a life of his own choosing. It would be his own destiny. Arthur couldn't guess what he'd grow into, but it would be something great.

He finished washing his face and then went back in his room to change. He grabbed a sky blue polo off the floor and pulled it over his head. After a pause, Arthur realized that it was backward and turned it around. He located his navy tie lodged behind a flower pot with a dead flower in it. His black dress shoes were nowhere to be found, so he settled for a set of brown loafers. At least his khakis looked okay. No one would notice that they smelled like cat, even though Arthur had zero clue how this happened.

Arthur picked up his nicest jacket from the back of his desk chair and nodded at his reflection on the dark computer screen. He didn't care how he looked, but Ector would throw a hissy fit if he were to see Arthur come down the stairs in a set of boxers, even if it was his birthday.

Oh how Arthur wanted to do that just to spite the man.

Arthur retrieved his wallet and put it into his back pocket. There was no use in putting it off any longer. He exited his bedroom and descended the stairs into the kitchen. Arthur plucked a bright red apple from the fruit bowl and called it breakfast. Surely neither members of the household would care. What could they complain about? Arthur eating breakfast before everyone else? One apple wasn't going to make him fat.

He took another bite into the shiny red surface. The skin was waxy, but the fruit inside was sweet, just like how he liked it. In fact, he just liked food in general. It probably had to do with the American inside of him.

The floorboards upstairs creaked. Most likely it was his father waking up and moving around. Arthur thanked God that he left his bedroom door closed. Ector had no business to be in there, but if he were to walk into a bedroom that looked like Hurricane Katrina had her wild sweet sixteen bash, Arthur would be a dead man. He should have had it clean two months ago.

He combed his fingers through his blond locks. Ector should approve of his outfit. They didn't typically go to church until 1:30. The majority of the people in the neighborhood went to the late-night candlelit service, but Ector's schedule forbade them from doing such a thing. Kay didn't complain because it gave him the night off to get dr- to spend the night by himself.

Arthur, however, wished that he could be a part of a normal family who went to the special Christmas Eve services with his biological mum and dad. He wished that his brother would still hang out with him, and he wished that he was not a bastard. Arthur's life was all kinds of messed up, and today didn't help him forget it.

Maybe this year would be different. He was old enough to go off on his own if he wished. Arthur had no friends that he could split an apartment with, but he could get a job and save up for one. He reminded himself to ask for Ector's permission when the day was done.

Finally his adoptive father came down the stairs dressed in a stiff shirt and evergreen tie. One of his hands was over Ector's mouth to conceal his yawn. Arthur had a hunch that his father didn't have a restful night. This was supported by the dark circles under his brown eyes and the continued train of yawns.

"Good morning, Father," Arthur greeted politely. It wasn't entirely warm; that was just the way how the blond was brought up.

"Arthur." Ector put on a pleasant smile. "Are you doing well this morning?"

Arthur nodded. He took another bite out of the scarlet fruit in his hand. He wondered if Ector would make mention of it, but he didn't.

Ector looked around worriedly. "Any sign of Kay?" Arthur shook his head in the negative.

There was an awkward silence. Their family wasn't complete without Ector's biological son and Arthur's adoptive brother. The scene was too empty. Both Kay's mum and Arthur's mother were dead. At least Kay knew his mum for six years before she died in that wreck all those years ago. As far as Arthur knew, his mother was dead the moment he exited her womb; it was his fault she was dead. By all forces of nature, he should have been dead right along with her.

No one, not even the doctors, could explain what went wrong. She was fine, according to Ector, just a few days before. Arthur used to ask about her all the time: what was she like, how she and Ector met, etc. Ector would answer that she was the second-best thing to ever happen to him, then he'd grow quiet and sad. Arthur knew that he was to blame for his father's unhappiness. Ector tried to say that Kay and Arthur were _the_ best things to happen to him, but Arthur couldn't believe the man for one second.

His father didn't even have the decency to wish Arthur a happy birthday. Arthur didn't expect it out of Ector, but it hurt that he wouldn't. In his heart, Arthur knew that Ector would choose Kay over Arthur in the blink of an eye. Arthur was born out of wedlock in a supposed affair between his mother and some man he never even met. He probably had dozens of half-siblings throughout Europe. Maybe there were some in America for all he knew, their mothers having been unsuspecting tourists.

Arthur stopped his thought.

The front door opened, followed by a rancid smell. Young Arthur plugged his nose to block out the stench. It was emitting from Kay. He was having a hard time standing upright. His yellow t-shirt had a dark stain down the front. Ector looked at his elder son disapprovingly.

Kay sauntered over to where Arthur was leaning up against the wall and fetched a crudely wrapped package from his pocket. He extended his hand forward towards Arthur with an exaggerated mock-bow. "For you, Art-hur."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the drunken gesture, but inwardly, he was touched. Out of everyone he's met in his life, Kay was the only one he could ever rely on.

He took a knife from the block and cut the tan cord holding the brown package paper together. Arthur unwrapped it to find a gold watch on a chain. When he flipped it over, he found an engraving of a dragon carved on the smooth surface.

Arthur embraced his brother. "I love it. Thank you." Kay returned the gesture. Ector looked on from the background with a stoic expression, but it was near impossible to tell what he was feeling.

The atmosphere around the house was nearly always the same. No one ever questioned it because they felt it every Christmas Eve. However, it was there everyday. No one could explain the presence. It had been around since Arthur's birth. Ector, Kay, and Arthur all thought that it was their imaginations pulling a trick on them. They never discussed it aloud.

What they didn't know was that there was actually someone watching them, or, more specifically, watching Arthur and protecting him from harm's way...just like in his dreams.

* * *

 _ **That is the first part of the original chapter. The second chapter will deal more with Arthur and his stalker (Gee, who on EARTH could he be)? Then, I promise, we will actually get to the good parts involving Arthur's destiny, yada yada.**_

 _ **I'm done. I PROMISE that I won't ruin it for you.**_

 ** _Okay, this is usually where I answer guest reviews. I PMed responses to those with accounts, but I had no guest reviews. I am not used to this._**

 ** _Please consider reviewing :D I will post more in a few day's time...hopefully. Anyone who might read my one-shots story would know that I am terrible at keeping my promises, but there is this part of me that thinks things will be different for this story._**

 ** _If you have any questions, feel free to ask._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	3. Poinsettias

_**I've decided that this is the easiest story for me to write. I love The Haunted One-Shots, but it takes me AGES for me to write each one-shot. This one, however, is not even a week old, and I already have the 3rd chapter.**_

 _ **Originally, I already told you, this was a part of the second chapter. Then I split it because I didn't want to start having 7,000 word long chapters for this story. I already made that mistake with the Haunted One-Shots, and now I manage to write 26,000 word chapters. Nope, not making the mistake again...I hope.**_

 _ **We will meet more characters in this chapter. Oh, and things start really going down in this chapter too *grins evilly*.**_

 _ **Remember to review please! I will love you forever! :D**_

-"Rey's Theme" by John Williams (Star Wars)

-"Very Old Friends" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

-"Road to Hell" by Kevin MacLeod

-"Fighting in the Market" from Merlin

-"The Friends" by Nicholas Hooper (Harry Potter)

 _ **If anyone actually listens to the music, well, you might see something fun in here.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Poinsettias

Arthur was stifling laughs despite the disapproving look on Ector's face. Anyone would laugh if some boring preacher's sermon was interrupted by a loud rendition of the _Ghostbusters_ theme. Ector reminded Arthur and Kay to silence their phones. Kay didn't listen. No wonder Ector dragged Kay out early.

"Why can't you compose yourself and act like a normal human being, Kay?" Ector admonished. Out of everyone inside the church, he was the only one to not find humor in the situation. Even the poor preacher couldn't mask his humored smile, though he did try.

Arthur saw that Kay was barely listening, or at least to Ector. His head nodded along with the beat of whatever track he had pulled up on his phone. Some tunes were escaping Kay's earbuds. Both Arthur and Ector heard them.

"And it is not even the fact that you _deliberately disrespected_ my words, Kay, and left the sound on full blast. It is who called you. Who is Mary Dursley?"

Kay sighed and removed one of the buds from his ear. "It's none of your business, Dad," he whined. "Why do you care? I am legally an adult. I can date whoever I want."

"Who," Ector repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Is. Mary?"

"She's just a girl. Now leave me alone." Kay plugged back in his earbuds.

Arthur bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing aloud. He didn't have to fear Kay's threat any longer since Ector clearly knew about Mary now. Now he can revel in the fact that Kay was busted, and it wasn't by Arthur being a tattletale.

"Just a girl? Is she respectable? What is she like? Have you slept together?" Ector asked the last question pleadingly.

Kay gave Ector an annoyed glance. "What? No! Of course not! Even if we did, I wouldn't be telling you about it."

Arthur looked out the car window. Most of the buildings were decorated in brightly colored string-lights and elegant wreaths complete with red velvet bows. He wasn't going to remind them, but his own family has temporarily forgotten his birthday. Never once has Ector wished Arthur a happy birthday. In fact, it's been that way for a few years now. He was growing up.

Ector refocused on the road. Arthur could have sworn that he heard his adoptive father mutter under his breath, "Oh, you'll be telling me all about it."

Arthur couldn't control his laugh this time. It was a rather annoying laugh. According to Kay, it sounded like a donkey, earning him some rather unpleasant nicknames when he was younger. Thank goodness that Ector was around to put a stop to them.

But Ector heard. "Do you think this is funny, Arthur? Don't you worry for your brother at all?"

Arthur's smile faded. "Well, I'd worry for him if there was something to worry about, but he's the only one who can change himself. What do you want me to do?"

Kay smiled.

* * *

It was about an hour after Ector had left for work, and it was dark outside. Arthur became bored with the book he was reading for about the tenth time and folded one of the pages so that he didn't lose his place. He set the copy of _A Song of Ice and Fire_ down on top of his desk with a sigh. Arthur didn't know what else to do.

He heard a knock on the door. Arthur answered suspiciously, "Come in, Kay." Kay never knocked unless if he wanted something from Arthur.

Kay strutted in. He was still in his Sunday-best, but his tie was crooked, and his dress jacket was now unbuttoned. "Hello, Arthur."

Arthur flinched. This was just _fantastic._ Kay didn't call Arthur by his real name, even if he wanted something, unless if the act was foolish and risky.

"Kay, I do not want to know what it is you want, so don't waste your breath."

Kay feigned a hurt look. "What makes you think that I want something from you?" When Arthur glared at him, Kay sighed in defeat. "Fine. I need a ride."

"A ride?" Arthur questioned skeptically. "To where?"

"It is better if you don't know." Kay shrugged sheepishly.

Arthur fiddled with his shirt collar. "What do I get out of this?"

"I'll owe you one." Arthur raised his eyebrow. Kay _hated_ owing someone anything. That was drilled into Arthur's brain for years.

"Is this about your _girlfriend_?" Arthur asked, struggling to maintain a straight face.

"Shut up, Arthur!" Kay's face turned a rosy pink. Arthur wished that he had a camera; he never saw Kay blush.

"Fine, I'll drive you, though it is your fault that you lost your car keys. If you told Father, then maybe he'd consider getting you a replacement set."

"And maybe he won't!" Kay huffed. "Sorry, but I'll stick to letting you chauffeur me around until he's in a good enough mood, which happens like never."

Arthur raised both his hands. "I can't believe that I am agreeing to this," he said quietly. "If you are caught, I had no idea of what your intentions were."

Kay laughed heartily. "Please, your Dad's Golden-boy. You can't get in trouble."

Arthur joined in half-heartedly. If only Kay understood him. He wasn't the Golden-boy, contrary to Kay's belief. He was just a constant reminder of Madalyn's betrayal and later the cause of her death.

But Kay couldn't know. He would just call him a wuss, and Arthur's pride wouldn't allow that. No one can know.***

* * *

"Make a left, here, Arthur," Kay demanded boredly from the passenger seat.

"Yes, Idiot," Arthur said through tight lips. He was already regretting his decision to take Kay _anywhere_.

"Hey, remember that I am older than you, so you must respect me."

"All right." Arthur let out one of his donkey laughs. "Sir Idiot."

Kay scrunched up his face. "Be careful what you say. You sound like an _ass_. A royal one at that, but an ass."

Arthur rolled his eyes at his brother's immaturity, but he kept both hands on the wheel, resisting the urge to clock him. He was too good to sink down to Kay's level and respond in violence. Arthur was sure that Kay was just looking for a reaction.

"Turn right now!"

Startled, Arthur's car swerved as he made the turn. When he regained control of the vehicle, he hissed to Kay, "You could have given me some warning. Bloody hell!"

Kay yawned. "Personally, I think that it is more fun this way. You should have seen your face. It was _priceless_."

Streetlights from outside illuminated the two brothers' faces. Arthur was not amused by Kay's timing. He could have wrecked, and when the insurance bill came in, Ector would be upset in Arthur. He maintained a decent driving record, having only received one speeding ticket in his life, but it almost didn't count because everyone else was going over the speeding limit, and he was not about to get run over. He was just unlucky enough to be pulled over.

Arthur wasn't about to let Kay ruin that for him now. "What is the next set of directions, or else I'll turn back now."

"Here's good. Pull over."

Arthur eyed his brother. "What are you doing with your life, Kay?"

"Living it. Now pull over, Arthur."

There was the use of his proper name again. Arthur started feeling uneasy. It was weird actually. He was so used to an insult or the drunken pronunciation of his name that hearing Kay say "Arthur" was actually a little scary.

"Remember, Kay. If anyone asks, I was not your ride." He obliged, regretting every second of this escapade.

"So are you forfeiting your claim on your reward?"

Arthur punched him in the arm. "Of course not, but I won it in a bet."

Kay noogied him, and Arthur winced, "Whatever you say, little brother. Now come on. We're walking the rest of the way."

The two exited the vehicle. Arthur found himself wishing that he had brought a winter coat with him. At least it wasn't snowing right now, but it was cold enough to.

Arthur and Kay crossed over to the right side of the street even though it was highly unlikely that anyone would be out driving that night. Most were either at work or at home, just like how Arthur wanted to be right now.

Kay walked with a brisk pace. Arthur caught him digging his hand in his pocket for his wallet and secretly prayed that he wasn't walking into a drug deal.

"Relax, Art-hur. It's one-hundred-percent legal."

Arthur, against his better judgement, started to feel better when Kay called him "Art-hur." There was the brother he was forced to know.

He calmly replied, "Fine, but don't expect me to stick around."

Kay's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Trust me, you'll like it."

* * *

Arthur did NOT like it. The two stood in front of the Dancing Dragon, a pub that Arthur knew that Kay liked to frequent.

"Do you want me to go in _there_?" Arthur asked, his voice becoming squeaky.

"You don't have to get anything. Consider this a birthday bonus to make up for Dad's lackluster gift."

"It wasn't that bad," Arthur mumbled. Ector had given him a set of encyclopedias like he had for Kay. Kay's set was never touched and just cluttered the shelf in his wardrobe.

"You actually don't mind a set of books?" Kay looked astonished.

"Maybe if you read more," Arthur retorted, "then you wouldn't be insulting books."

Kay opened his mouth for a comeback, but then a raucous cry came from inside. "Kay, my man!"

A red-faced Irish guy in his thirties came outside. He had a handlebar mustache. The man held out his arms and hugged Kay as if they were friends since childhood.

"Art-hur, this is Darcy, one of my buds."

"AHAH!" Darcy guffawed. "So this is the infamous Arthur!" He hugged unfortunate Arthur, who wanted nothing more than to get out of this place. "You can call me Uncle Darcy."

Arthur gave Kay a pleading look. His brother looked at him smugly. Perhaps this was his plan all along. Arthur needed his official "first drink," apparently. He groaned loudly.

"Get the young master an egg flip on me!" Darcy yelled out cheerfully. "It's his eighteenth."

Someone sat Arthur down at a table surrounded by loud drunks. Some were catcalling both guys and women. Others were atrociously laughing at things that didn't warrant laughter. Arthur uncomfortably shifted in his seat.

Kay slid into the stool next to him. "There are a few others I would like to introduce you to." He waved his hand over, and Arthur was suddenly face to face with a brunette girl with a phoenix tattoo, a man with midnight-blue tips to his spiked hair, and a pale goth man with dark makeup.

The brunette smiled. "The name's Mary. Mary Dursley." Arthur could tell right away that Ector would never approve of Mary. True, she wasn't as bad as some of Kay's other friends, but Ector turned up his nose at tattooing, though Arthur couldn't deny how cool the phoenix was.

Mary grinned even wider, revealing golden crowns on some of her teeth. "Like him? His name is Fawkes, like from _Harry Potter_. I have another one under my shirt, but I'm not going to show you, am I?"

Arthur felt his face heat up. "Nope, I think I'm good." He shook his head so quickly.

Kay smirked and pointed to the man with spiked hair. "This is Sean, and the other one is his twin brother, Ian."

Arthur could barely tell that they were twins with all the self-alterations they had.

While Kay started talking with his "buds," Darcy especially, Arthur looked around. This was not the place for him. While he knew that no place was the place for him, Arthur decided that he didn't belong in taverns, bars, pubs, whatever you wanted to call them. Trusting that Kay wouldn't miss him, Arthur slinked out the backdoors into a frigid alley.***

* * *

At least Arthur had an above-average sense of direction. He moved towards the end of the alleyway, ready to step out in full view of the entrance to the Dancing Dragon. He never made it, as someone attacked him from behind and slammed him into the brick wall of the building.

"Check him," an icy voice snarled. Arthur couldn't see the faces of his captors between the dark night and the fact that he had a face full of wall. A gargantuan hand was effectively blocking his windpipe so that he couldn't scream.

He felt someone digging around in his pockets. When someone tugged at the golden chain connecting his watch to his belt loop, Arthur let out a moan. One of the thieves pulled it free and let out a satisfied cry.

Another bandit pulled out his wallet and looked at it. "Well, look at this, boys and girls. Looks like we really _have_ found our prince. _Arthur Thomas_. Name sound familiar to you?"

Prince? Arthur started to struggle. He was no prince. The royal family did not use last names, and last he checked, he was not royalty. It dawned on Arthur that perhaps his elusive father was one of the members of the royal family, but he disregarded that thought. It just wasn't in that character.

Besides, how could the bandits know if he even was a prince? They declared it after seeing his first name. Based on history, the last "Prince Arthur" died of an unknown ailment in the year of 1502, paving the way for Henry VIII and his adventures of trying to find an heir. Arthur was Arthur, just Arthur.

"And look at this." He heard the sound of someone opening his watch, and Arthur's heart pained. "Bloody hell, it's the Pendragon crest."

Arthur remembered the engraving of a dragon. Originally, he thought nothing of it other than it looked pretty wicked. He didn't know where it came from.

"So, _prince_ , where did you get this?" This bandit had an unpleasant female voice. "And don't scream, else we stick you right here and now."

Someone removed their hand from his mouth and turned him away from the wall. He felt something running down his cheek and assumed that it was his own blood.

"I don't know; my brother got it for me. He probably found it somewhere and thought that I might like it."

"" _My brother_ " you say?" The bandit was doing a horrible job at impersonating Arthur; he thought that it might have been done on purpose. "We know of your half-sister, but you have no brother."

"Half-sister?" Arthur felt some feeling inside of him, but he couldn't describe it. "You know my parents?!"

In mock-pity, the woman said mysteriously, "My dear, sweet boy, you don't know the half of it." Then, with a hushed and giddy voice, she whispered, "What do we do with the boy? Kill him?"

"Let's..." Their leader paused. "Bella, I know that you want to kill him, but not yet. Let's take him back to Master; see what He wants to do with the young prince."

He felt someone restraining both his arms. Arthur didn't like this vulnerability. From deep within him, he felt some instincts kick in. Arthur started fighting back.***

Arthur stamped down hard on the foot of who was restraining him. The bandit groaned in pain and reflexively loosened his grip. Arthur broke free and started running towards the exit for his life. He heard some thundering footsteps and knew that he was being followed. If Arthur had a weapon, he felt like he could take them down, but they had attacked an unarmed man.

Someone tackled him from behind. He felt a stabbing pain and groaned. The villain removed his blade from Arthur's side, and Arthur gasped. He pulled away and decided to ignore the pain in favor of survival. Unfortunately, he was considerably slowed down.

From behind him, Arthur heard a _swoosh_. He slowed down but didn't stop moving. Half of him wanted to get the bloody hell out the area and to the safety of his car. The other half was curious and foolish and wanted to know what that sound was. After a mental battle with himself, Arthur's curious side won out, and Arthur stopped completely. He turned around with his fists raised.

Someone was attacking the bandits, but not with anything physical. The man (he appeared to have a beard a lot like Albus Dumbledore) was waving his hands around like a madman. Arthur's attackers were being slung around like rag-dolls away from him, away from Arthur.

Arthur looked on in amazement. He could only see things like this in the movies, never in real life. This...this was defying physics. Forget science! Arthur felt like he was sucked into the world of _Harry Potter_.

The acrobatic bandits continued to be flung around through the air. When the sorcerer (that is what Arthur decided to dub him) finally decided that the criminals had enough and released them, they all scampered, throwing the old man looks of pure terror. One of them tripped over a garbage-can lid that certainly wasn't there before.

"Yeah! Beat it you bloody kids!" The elderly sorcerer stuck his tongue out at them until they were gone. Then he moved towards Arthur. Arthur would have recoiled, but with the rush of adrenaline gone, his side hurt more than ever.

"Are you all right?" The man's voice went softer with concern leaking out.

Arthur tried to speak, but it hurt too much. He put both his hands on the stab wound, trying to staunch the blood flow. Maybe he could convince Kay to drive him home, but he couldn't trust a drunk man to drive.

The sorcerer removed Arthur's hands and replaced them with his own. " _Wel cene hole_ ," the sorcerer murmured. There was a flash of light around the wound. Arthur grimaced, but then he noticed that the pain was gone. He raised up his blood-soaked shirt to find the wound completely gone.

" _Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum_." A bright ball of blue light appeared, casting its light down on the pair. Arthur started breathing heavily in shock.

He didn't realize that he was gaping until now. Embarrassed, he shut his mouth. "Th-that was amazing! Where did you learn to do that?"

"If you were as old as I, you'd pick up things, too. It took me too long to master that spell. At the time, I was too late, but it warms my heart to see that it is of some use now."

Arthur stared off in the direction where the fiends ran off towards. "Do-do you think they will come back?"

"One-hundred-percent, which is why you need to get out of here, clotpole! Go on!" The sorcerer shooed him.

Arthur stared openmouthed again at the wizard. Something about the insult clicked inside of him, but he couldn't place it. He stayed where he was. "I would like to know what is going on. And what is a clotpole?"***

The sorcerer looked at him with a saddened smile. "You don't remember?" When Arthur raised his eyebrows at him, the old man shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You're safe, now. Run along before you are missed. And don't worry about your brother; I'll see to it that he makes it home safely."

"How do you know about Kay?" Arthur asked. The edges of his words were bitter.

The warlock looked away. "It doesn't matter, either. I have my ways. But you, young prince, need-"

"Don't call me that!" Arthur snapped. On the inside, however, he was approving of it.

"As you wish, Your Dopple-headedness. Wow, that is a long word. Still, no matter what I call you, the fact remains that you are in danger still. They will come back, only this time with more. They weren't expecting me to show up."

"Who are you?" Arthur asked in awe.

"It does not matter." The sorcerer gestured to a pile of belongings littering the street. He muttered some words, and they came towards him. He held out Arthur's wallet, his watch, and a pocketknife that must have been dropped by one of the villains. "Keep the knife. It will keep you safe."

Arthur flipped it open. Embossed on the blade was an image of a dragon, exactly like that on his watch. "What the bloody hell?"

The image rang a bell, but he couldn't picture where he could have seen the dragon before. Arthur wasn't talking about that of the watch. What was it that the thieves called it, the Dendragon crest? Fendragon? Pendragon? _Pendragon_. That was it.

"What is a Pendragon?" Arthur asked aloud.

"All in good time, clotpole," the sorcerer answered. "Now you really must be going. Your father will be getting worried about you."

"He's not my father," Arthur mumbled. He didn't know why he was denying it. Ector was more his father than anyone.

"I know that. Your father was a stupid arrogant old tyrant."

Arthur wheeled around on him. "You also know who my real father was?!" Was Arthur the only one who _didn't_ know?

The sorcerer waved his hand farewell. "It was nice meeting you again, Arthur. I expect that we shall cross each other's paths very soon." He started saying some incantations.

"Wait!" Arthur yelled. "What is your name!"

The sorcerer paused. "Emrys." Then he was gone.

* * *

 _ **Yeah, I think we moved out of the yada-yada exposition stuff. Now we can actually get into the real story: the coming of Arthur 2.0.**_

 _ **So, Arthur and Emrys meet (cough again cough). There are these weird villains who know Arthur, but who is their Master? We'll soon find out...maybe.**_

 _ **Real quick, I want to point out that Kay is a lot like Gwaine. I think that I will have some people be a lot like certain characters in this story. I mean, Mary sort of kind of makes me think of Isolde, even though at the same time they are different. But Kay is a lot like Gwaine.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading. Please review your thoughts about this; I love reviews.**_

 _ **I will do something different with this story: a thank you list. It can and will always be updated.**_

 _ **Thank you mersan123 and Kyromatronix for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123 and Walluruby for following._**

 ** _May these lists get so long that they will be longer than anything else._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	4. Presence

_**Hello, and welcome back to Arthur. A day may come when this story gets to be super awesome...let's hope that day comes soon, yes?**_

 _ **So, last chapter involved Arthur being attacked by a group working for someone known as the Master, but who is he exactly? Of course, the bigger thing is that Arthur and "Emrys" finally meet face to face, even though Emrys has pretty much been around since the time of Arthur's birth.**_

 _ **Just keep this information in mind whilst reading this ;)**_

 _ **What else to say? I can't think of anything right now, but I will.**_

 _ **Music**_

-"Arthur's Final Battle" from Merlin

-"The Call of Destiny" from Merlin

 _ **Now that's settled...**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Presence

A set of headlights shone in the driveway, then they dimmed to blackness. Arthur exited the vehicle silently, praying to God that he wouldn't be noticed. He did not desire a telling off by Ector.

But luck wasn't on his side. A very furious Ector was sitting in one of the cushioned kitchen chairs, drumming his spider-like fingers on the wooden table. He got one look of Arthur and predicted the worst.

"Where have you been, Arthur?" the surrogate father chastised.

Arthur glanced down at his muddy shoes, trying to find an excuse for as to why he was not home in bed. "Kay needed a ride. I obliged." The blond wasn't even lying. Kay _did_ get him into this mess by asking for a ride. Arthur thought it best to omit the parts that happened afterward.

Ector narrowed his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he noticed something upon his younger son's shirt. "Is that _blood_?"

Arthur paled. The last thing he wanted to do was tell his father about the assault. Even if he had all the answers he wanted, he couldn't ever tell Ector. Who's to say that he wouldn't think him crazy and direct him to the asylum? That place was full of nutters.

"It's not…Look." Arthur lifted up the ruined shirt to reveal his completely intact skin. _Thank goodness for Emrys_.

Ector surveyed the bare skin, but his suspicion did not dissipate. "You've been fighting," he accused.

Arthur felt his stomach knot up as he prepared his lie. "Wh-what? No! I drove Kay out to the Dancing Dragon, an-and he wanted me to follow him in. Believe me, Father, I didn't want to, but Kay dragged me inside and introduced him to his friends. One of them...spilled red wine all over me. That is why I walked out. Kay can find his own ride back. If I had known that this was where he wanted to go, then I would not have agreed, I swear."

Arthur held his breath as Ector scrutinized the boy in front of him. "Why didn't he provide his own transportation?"

Arthur relaxed, relieved that Ector didn't question the story of the "red wine." "Kay didn't want me to say anything, but, truthfully, he lost his car keys a few weeks ago. He's been finding rides from all sorts of people lately. I was his unlucky target."

Ector puckered his lips and shook his head in a fashion that showed that he could see Kay doing that. "Well, that certainly sounds like Kay." Then he took both of Arthur's shoulders. "Did you drink any?"

"What?!" Arthur protested. He pulled away in outrage. "No! I wouldn't…Why would you think that of me, Father?" He self-consciously felt the bloodied area where, just an hour ago, there was a stab-wound.

Ector shrugged, but Arthur could see that he was consoled. Maybe, just maybe, he did care for him. "Just making sure. Are you _certain_ that you are all right, Arthur?"

" _Yes_ , father," Arthur hissed through his teeth. He yawned. "Now can I please go to bed before Kay gets back? He is not going to be very happy with me once he realizes that I abandoned him."

Ector laughed heartily and nodded. He believed Arthur. It sickened him at how easily he was able to lie to his father, but he did. Little did the young adult know that soon he would be doing it more often than he would like.

* * *

Arthur usually used the time for himself to sleep in as well. Still, one does not simply sleep in if they can't go to sleep in the first place. That is what Arthur done. He only pretended to be tired, but, in truth, he just wanted to get away from the questions.

 _What was going on?_ He is attacked by a group of outlaws who knew more about him than he did himself. Then he is saved by a Gandalf-wannabe who knew just as much as, if not more than, the criminals about Arthur. There was something distinctly familiar about the old man, but he couldn't place it.

No, the man's name was Emrys. At least, that is what the sorcerer claimed. Arthur didn't believe for one second that that was the real name of the old man. It just didn't feel right, and Arthur trusted his intuition.

Arthur was overthinking this. Whatever happened that night must have been exaggerated. He must have dreamed up the sorcery bit. Maybe it really was wine on the shirt. He was tired.

Arthur did not believe his feeble excuse, either.

The curtains were drawn closed, as they usually were. Arthur could pretend to be asleep for a little longer, but then what? He had to get rid of the bags forming under his eyes. Maybe another hour of real sleep might help.

Arthur yawned for real this time. He was eager for some real sleep. Nice...real...seellleeeeeppp.

* * *

 _Arthur was hanging for dear life. It was dark in the cave. Well, of course it was because the sorceress took the torch away, but a feeling of dread hung in the air and clogged up his lungs. Arthur's body was being weighed down by the heavy mail he was wearing. It done nothing to protect him from the sorceress. Really, it barely did anything this entire crusade._

 _All for what? A handful of flowers that could potentially save a servant boy? Everyone told him that he should not have gone on this journey. Arthur was beginning to think that they were right. Then he remembered his reason for going. He had to keep going...for_ him _. He was the closest to a real friend that he ever had, even though Arthur had a funny way of showing it. He would never admit it, but it was the truth._

 _Yet, even now, Arthur was going to fail him the one time it mattered. This was, what, the second time the manservant saved his life? Maybe the third? Yet the prince couldn't save him._

 _A voice rang out in his head, distressed just like Arthur. "_ Arthur. It's too dark. Too dark _." It sounded vaguely like his servant's._

 _Arthur felt an even stronger sense of despair. Of course the thoughts flowing inside his muddled head had to be obvious and pessimistic. However, Arthur knew that this was the truth. He would never be able to make it out of this cave with his life, much less save his manservant._

 _Arthur started heaving. He felt his grip on the damp rock starting to slip away. His face was drenched in a cold sweat, allowing the dusty dirt to turn to a sticky mud. He was losing his hold. Soon, he would let go and fall into oblivion. Maybe he should accept it now._

 _Then he felt something change in the air. Arthur gritted his teeth and looked down to his right. A ball of shimmering blue light floated up, lighting the cavern enough for Arthur to see. The blond, however, could not bring himself to trust it._

 _Still breathing heavily, he taunted the absent sorceress, "Come out then! What are you waiting for?! Finish me off!"_

 _But there was no answer. She had left him to his fate a while ago. In fact, she was probably already celebrating his death._

 _Arthur watched the ball of light. It flew over his head, bringing him a wave of calm...and determination. With new-found strength, Arthur pulled himself onto the ledge. His chest-plate clattered against the stone as it tried to pull him down into the light-less depths beyond him. Arthur's face smudged into the rock from tiredness, but this was no time for resting._

 _He pushed himself to his feet. Arthur's hand reached for the sword and rearmed itself. Arthur stared at it once it hit him that he was alive. Then he re-sheathed the weapon._

 _His blue eyes trailed back to the bright orb. It started to rise upward, goading him to follow for safety. But Arthur was not yet successful in his quest. He looked upward in the opposite direction at the yellow blossoms that were native only to this cave. They were able to grow without sunlight and little water._

 _"_ Leave them, Arthur! _" There was an ear-piercing screech. Arthur glanced down in horror at the hundreds of eight-legged spiders climbing towards him._

 _"_ Go. Save yourself _." However, Arthur would never be able to live with himself if the servant died for him. He wasn't going to owe that boy_ anything. He _recoiled away from the spiders, but he would not flee from them._

 _"_ Follow the light _." Arthur ignored the guardian's voice and looked away from the eight-legged army towards the yellow flowers. He needed one, just one, to save a life that actually mattered._

 _The prince started to scale the cave wall. Climbing came naturally to Arthur. He was able to find the right crevices to place his fingers and his toes to keep him from falling to certain doom. Arthur climbed away from the light towards the plants._

 _He pulled himself up the wall, fueled by an internal fire that would not die out. He needed the flowers to save his friend. He reached for one of the golden blossoms. The leather glove on Arthur's hand slipped across the slippery surface of the stone. Arthur struggled to hold himself in place with one hand, so he ascended even more so that he was closer to the flowers._

 _This time, when he reached, he was able to pick one of the blossoms. He exhaled in relief and, after making sure his feet were well up to the challenge of holding him up, he put the flower safely into the pouch hanging at his belt._

 _The spiders were almost upon him. With their deadly bite, Arthur could potentially die. He tried to climb, but the dark gloves on his hands were making the attempts futile. He used his teeth to bite off the gloves and cast them into the darkness._

* * *

Then Arthur woke up, white as a ghost. It had been _years_ since he had one of these dreams. The last one he had was when he was what, six, seven years old? Why was he having one now on the day after his eighteenth birthday?

The day after he was attacked by that group in the dark alley by the pub. The day after he was rescued by that sorcerer.

No, Arthur needed to stop having these foolish thoughts. It was coincidence. That was all what it was. Maybe his mind just made this up because he was sleep-deprived. Yeah, that had to be the reason. Arthur could not seem to find another explanation.

Christmas morning. It was highly unlikely that the Thomas household would do anything special. They might eat a nicer-than-usual dinner with chocolate cake. Presents were saved for after dinner because everyone slept in. Ector worked until late, and Kay usually didn't show up until around noon.

Arthur, with another yawn, tossed his blanket onto the floor in a senseless heap. Ector would have a real fit if he saw the state of Arthur's room. Arthur did not entirely care, but he was working on it. Kind of. Not really.

Christmas was pretty much a bank holiday, so it was not like there were going to be people cluttering the streets. Arthur fancied an early morning walk. He found a pencil and scribbled a quick note should Ector wake up before he returned. Then Arthur donned a light brown leather jacket, a black long-sleeve shirt, dark blue trousers, and bark-brown boots and went outside into the brisk winter air.

There was a certain holiday air around him. Arthur could feel it, and it was comforting. He padded down the deserted street, taking in the sights. He thought about the flea market in his family-atmospheric neighborhood of Camlann. It was complete with the hospital that he was born in, two petrol stations, a park, a theatre, a library, two cafes, a grocery store, and the flea market.

He wanted to go to the flea market. After all, he still has not gotten gifts for Ector and Kay.

He pulled out the watch Kay gave him. 10:32. Arthur had a good hour and a half before Kay got back.

Arthur sighed and closed the lid. It got dented last night after the attack. Still, the dragon was legible. He traced his finger on the image of the great serpent. _Where did Kay get it from, anyway?_ He thought that the piece was magnificent, but it nearly got him killed, or...did it save him? They attacked him _before_ seeing the watch and the driver's license with his incriminating name. They could have killed him, but then they chose not to.

They called him their prince. _What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?_ He almost certainly was _not_ royalty. Arthur was sure that he would know. While he didn't know the identity of his father, he was sure that they did _not_ know for certain. He was just an ordinary man.

However, Arthur knew that wasn't the case. They discreetly attacked him with a knife with a dragon identical to that on his watch. Even now, he followed the advice of the sorcerer and kept the blade on him. It was currently hidden in a secret pocket in his jacket. While he could hardly trust the sorcerer, no, _Emrys_ , his survival was worth more to him than his pride.

Then Arthur came to the flea market. Almost no one was manning the street vendor booths. However, there were some that were open even for Christmas. They were run by those who had no family to visit for the holidays.***

He went to one booth ran by an old maid named Rebecca. She wasn't really that old, only forty-five, but she never married. Some say that yes, she had loved once, but the man in question was mysterious and was considered by some to be a nutter. They supposedly dated for a while, even though he was a couple decades older than her, then the affair stopped. The man disappeared off the face of the earth, and Rebecca's reputation was ruined.

Rebecca did not let this scandal ruin her passion for making clothes and selling it. She spent her days locked away in her flat, apparently huddled over a sewing machine. There were many things that she could make with her hands, including scarves.

Arthur took a neckerchief, a red one, and ran it through his fingers. Arthur suddenly felt like he was hit with stone. There was something oddly recognizable about the scarf. He squeezed it tightly in his hands reassuringly, then Arthur allowed his hand holding the piece to drop to his side.

"Is there something wrong, Arthur?" Rebecca asked urgently.

Arthur shook his head and waved his hand. Then he looked up and smiled boyishly. "How much?"

"£6.89," she answered curtly.

Arthur located the money in his wallet. Then it hit him. It was strange. All the money was still intact from last night, but he did notice that something was missing.

 _Ector's going to_ kill _me_. His driver's license was gone. _Those_ bandits _must have taken it_.

Arthur had a spare at his house, but it still shook him how such a thing could have happened. It wasn't as though he needed a reminder of the events of last night. Whoever they worked for, they probably took it back to their hideout. What was it they called him? The Master? Arthur had a hunch that the "Master" was a male. For all he knew, they were someone that Arthur knew very well.

Arthur shivered, and it wasn't from the cold.

He was about to lay down the coins when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Arthur looked up tensely. He was being watched. He scanned the other early-morning shoppers and the vendors. No one looked suspicious. Then he noticed someone at a fruit stand inconspicuously pretending to be purchasing apples. Arthur stared at the man for a moment, and then he started to recognize the long silver beard.

Arthur's mouth started to hang open. For a moment, their eyes met, blue against blue. Then Emrys abandoned his charade of fruit-buying and started to hobble away with his fancy walking stick.

"Wait! Em-" Arthur closed his mouth, thinking it unwise to be blurting the name out in public for all to hear him.

Scarf in hand, he attempted to follow the sorcerer, demanding answers. However, an umbrella stand conveniently knocked over as if by magic, and Arthur tripped. When he stood up, a crowd of people formed seemingly out of nowhere, regardless of the day.

He tried to shove his way through. "Hey! I want to talk to you! Hold up!"

The sorcerer was unusually fast for someone his age. Then again, Arthur shouldn't be surprised as the elderly man had magic. He probably didn't feel the creaks in the bones that most old people seemed to feel when they aged. Emrys's back was most likely just fine.

When Arthur finally pushed his way through the mob, Emrys was gone. Sighing, Arthur turned around to face Rebecca, who had both her hands on her hips and a scowl.

"Are you going to pay for that, Arthur?"

He nodded distractedly, craning his neck to find the old man. As Rebecca snatched the money from his hands with a huff, Arthur sighed in determination. He will get answers from Emrys. One way or another.

* * *

 _ **Okay, recap. We have Ector who clearly has no faith that his sons can be law abiding citizens, we have Arthur having visions that are totally not from Season 1 Episode 4 The Poisoned Chalice, and we have Emrys buying apples before disappearing into thin air. Good talk!**_

 _ **Do you like the neighborhood name ;)? I was running out of options.**_

 _ **Does anyone have any theories?**_

 ** _Thanks for taking the time to read this story. Your support is very much appreciated :)_**

 _ **Thank you mersan123 and Kyromatronix for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123 and Walluruby for following._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	5. Packaging

_**Hello guys. I am back with Chapter Five, Packaging. Meanwhile, I'm starting to regret my decision of having all of my chapter titles start with the letter "p." It was an accident at first, then I continued to do it to the point where I was self-conscious about it. It took me an hour to come up with this title.**_

 ** _I have a little Emrys treat at the end, so look forward for that bit._**

 ** _Previously, we had Arthur going back home with a bloody shirt yet no injuries, the beginning of the chain of lies to Ector, a vision from the past, and Emrys shopping/stalking at the flea market when Arthur noticed him._**

 ** _I have nothing else to say, so allow me to show the music list for today._**

-"The Breaking of the Fellowship" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

-"Elanor" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

 _ **Help me, my chapters are slowly growing in length for this story. I do not want this to happen. I made that mistake before, and now it is not entirely uncommon for me to have a 26,000 word long chapter. It's happened.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Packaging

As Arthur entered the front door with the presents wrapped up in his jacket, the first thing that occurred was a slap to his prattish face. Kay glared at his younger brother, slightly unsteady on his feet from drinking too much at the pub last night. He clicked his teeth impatiently, upset at his abandonment when, in his defense, he did nothing wrong.

He then grabbed Arthur by the front of his shirt and shoved him into the door frame, allowing for a jet of cold air to breeze inside the home. Arthur barely managed to keep his arms tightly down for the sake of keeping the Christmas gifts hidden from his family. He stared into the brown eyes of Kay. He looked _mad_.

"Where the hell were you last night?!" Kay asked, incredibly keeping his voice down so as not to wake up Ector. "One minute we were all having a good time, and the next had Darcy pointing out that you were missing. We looked _everywhere_ for you." He breathed heavily.

Arthur glanced down at his shoes in shame. With all that happened the night before, the last thing on his mind was that even in a drunken state, Kay still cared enough to notice when he went missing.

"You knew that I didn't want to be there. Yeah, I sneaked out." Arthur winced. He had to say some form of the truth to Kay, or else the stories would not match up, and Ector would come looking for _real_ answers. "Can you just stick to my story? I told Ector that one of your friends spilled red wine all over my shirt last night, and I do not want him to start questioning my story."

Kay raised a brow. "Um, okay, but that is my owe-you-one. No more debts."

Arthur grinned jokingly. "But why can't it just be a Christmas favor?" He shimmied out of Kay's grip.

"Because, I have a reputation to uphold." Kay pursed his lips. "But why lie? What did you do last night?"

Arthur scratched his nose and rubbed the inside of his elbow. "It is a very long and very peculiar story, but I swear on my mother's grave that I don't know why, but..." He sighed. "I was attacked last night... I don't know who, and I don't know the exact reason why, but there was a fight...and I got some blood on my shirt...Ector's under the impression that it is wine, and I would like to keep it that way."

Kay's face lost color. Arthur squirmed. He didn't like to see his brother worry for him. Kay's knuckles clenched, and Arthur swore that Kay was going to kill someone if he ever found out the perpetrators of the plot.

"Arthur," he started in a serious tone. "You must promise me that you will stay safe, no matter what. If you remember who any of these people are, you must tell me. I can't live with myself if something happened to you."

"I'll try to be more careful. I promise." But that was an empty promise, and both of them knew it. Because Arthur knew as well as Kay that he can't change when he got attacked or any of those circumstances. However, Arthur still carried one secret. Since he made that solemn promise to find out the truth, he was going to get further involved in this situation. That is what made it an empty promise. Arthur was not going to admit it to Kay.

His watch gave a little chime, marking noon. Arthur sighed. He was going to have a hard time getting used to it, but it reminded him of one of the questions he had. Kay can help with it.

"Say, don't mind my asking, but where did you get this?" Arthur hung the watch in front of Kay's face by the golden chain. It swung like a hypnotist's watch. "I've never seen anything like it." He tried his best to sound casual.

Kay shook his head in surprise. "Well, that was random. A friend gave it to me a while back to give to you because I was having trouble coming up with a birthday present idea."

Arthur nodded, and he ignored the protests coming from the back of his brain.

* * *

Arthur fiddled with the crudely wrapped presents. Wrapping was never his strong-point. In fact, arts and crafts in general just never appealed to him. Out of all the things when it came to giving gifts, wrapping was the worst. Arthur wished that he could just get away with the grocery bag the gift came with, but _no_.

He was also nursing a small cut from when he slashed his finger against the tape dispenser. True, it was nothing compared to the injury Arthur sustained last night, but it was irritating. His finger was now as red as Rudolph's nose, and it stung like hell. _At least this could be explained away without lying_.

Arthur, finding no reason to put it off any longer, stuffed the packages into the deep pockets of his jacket. They were small enough in size to do so. After double-checking that all three presents were secured in his pocket, Arthur went off to join his father and brother downstairs in the kitchen.

Ector was tidy as usual, dressed in a stiff suit and a crisp tie. Arthur again became self-aware that he was dressed so casually. Then again, Kay would be just the same, only probably worst. Out of his entire wardrobe, only three shirts were decent enough to be seen in public. The rest were with real wine stains.

Arthur made a note to take some of Kay's clothes out with him when he took his own shirt to the laundromat to wash out the blood.

"Happy Christmas, Arthur," Ector greeted warmly. The smile reached to his eyes for once. It was times like this when Arthur felt the most relaxed, and boy, did the blond need it.

"Same to you, Father." Arthur removed two of the gifts from his pocket and laid them down on the table. It was then when he realized how small they were in comparison to the rest of the presents. He blushed in shame.

Arthur then noticed something on the table in front of his father and smiled childishly. Ector seemed to attempt to protest but stopped. Arthur plucked one of the gingerbread cookies off the dish and bit its head off. "Yuu-uumm," he said with his mouth still full. "Di-iid gyyouuuu make deeze?" He swallowed the cookie.

Ector picked up one of the treats with a small smile. "No, Mariia Halej across the street did. She is getting on in years, and she wanted to do something nice for the neighborhood." His reprimand for talking with the mouth still full went unspoken.

Arthur took the silent hint and made sure that he was not chewing anything. "Well, thank her for me, please. These are _delicious_."

"You can thank her yourself; I invited her to come around for dinner on Wednesday."

Arthur was taking another bite when this was said; he nearly spewed out his food. He choked, and, with his eyes watering, he croaked, "I'm sorry; what?"

Mariia was not that bad of a person. She babysat Arthur and Kay several times when they were younger. She was just _boring_. She was always going on about her life in Poland (or was it Ukraine) when she was a little girl. Arthur wouldn't have minded, except he's heard the same story a thousand times now.

"Arthur," Ector started sternly, but his lips fell silent when Kay came down the stairs. Arthur noticed that he was not stumbling, so he must have worked the alcohol out of his system.

"Hey Dad. Art-hur. What'd I miss? Ooh, there's cookies." Kay reached for one of the cookies and sunk his teeth into the crunchy sweetness. Arthur reflexively lifted his hands to block out the loud sound, but his brain caught up half-way and stopped him.

"Have at them," Ector muttered.

Arthur smiled sheepishly. "Sorry Father." Everyone around the table knew that he wasn't really sorry. Truthfully, who would?

Arthur took it upon himself to assume that the cookies were replacing dinner. He extracted two tiny presents from the pile and placed them in front of their respective owners. Ector looked at his curiously and stroked the corner of the box absentmindedly. Meanwhile, Kay had to bite his tongue to refrain from making fun of the terrible wrapping job.

"They aren't much," Arthur admitted. He grimaced and hoped that they would still appreciate his Christmas presents, or at least Ector would. He visited several different stalls in search of the best gift subjects.

Kay tore through the thin wrapping and opened the cardboard box. With bated breath, Arthur studied his face for a reaction. Kay frowned and pulled out a Father Christmas bottle opener. He twirled the object in his hand, not even bothering to hide his revulsion. Arthur smirked. He made it his mission to get the tackiest gift possible as revenge for the Dancing Dragon.

"You like?" Arthur asked innocently. He just kept that wide-eyed grin plastered on his face as though nothing was wrong.

Kay raised an eyebrow in disgust at the object. "I hate you sometimes, Art-hur."

Arthur faked hurt. "You no like?"

Kay bared his teeth at Arthur, who in turn stuck his tongue out at him. As Ector picked up his box, Arthur noticed that Kay put the bottle opener in his jacket pocket when he thought Arthur wasn't looking.

Ector eyed his present with trepidation. He was probably worried that he would get a bottle opener, too. Arthur, however, liked to think that he wasn't _that_ evil. He wouldn't do that to his own father. Besides, Ector did not have the same sense of humor as Kay, so he would never appreciate it.

Finally, Ector mustered enough courage to open the present. Unlike Kay, he was neat and tidy about opening his present. He took out a letter opener and used it to make a neat cut in the wrapping. With delicate precision, he freed the cardboard box from the decorative wrapping and balanced it in the palm of his hand. Then Ector, taking a deep breath, opened the box.

His eyes narrowed in confusion. Gently, Ector pulled out the tiny device. It was pale gold in color. It had eight buttons: a lock, an unlock, a zero and one, a two and three, a four and five, a six and seven, a key, and an eight and nine. There was a cap reading _Classified PPS_ over the USB end. It was a Personal Pocket Safe.

Arthur smiled in satisfaction at the impressed look on his father's face. He has done well.

* * *

The sorcerer watched the family through his crystal ball. Before you say anything, yes, he acknowledged that this was stalking, but in Emrys's defense, this was the most sufficient way to be sure that Arthur Pendragon was safe.

How funny that after all this time, he still called the dopplehead that. Well, he still called him many things. Arthur had a different last name now, but Emrys watched him grow into the same (prat) strong man that he was in his first life. If he had a photograph of the friend he had centuries ago, the two would look like they were one and the same. Well, they were.

Emrys rarely did anything to interfere with this Arthur's life. The boy was home-schooled, and he had a private tutor who was currently on winter holidays. Arthur had few friends, and those he _did_ talk to were all older than him. There were some instances that he helped out with when Arthur was still a child, but really, he did not do anything to let the teen know that someone was watching over him.

That is, at least, until the events of Christmas Eve 2015 when Emrys found himself saving the boy from the group of bandits. Now the boy was noticing him everywhere. Yes, Emrys _did_ want to buy some apples, thank you very much. It was purely coincidental that he ran into Arthur at the flea market. Okay, maybe not _entirely_ , but Emrys did have an agenda besides keeping the prince safe.

Not that he regretted helping Arthur outside the pub. It was his fault, after all, that the group went after Arthur. Emrys did not know all their names, but he knew who they worked for. Emrys was the reason why the "Master" was the way he is. He was the one who released him.

Though it was not Emrys's fault that Arthur went to the pub. Okay, technically it was Arthur's brother's fault, but Emrys allowed a small smile as he thought of all the times Arthur berated him for "spending too much time in the tavern." Emrys only remembered that it was called "The Rising Sun" because of Gwaine and all of Gaius's patients.

Gwaine. Gaius. Emrys missed them all. Over the years, he has had little company. When Arthur was finally born, he was so delighted. It did not matter that he was in a body older than Yoda. Hopefully, Arthur will come to see him one day as his best friend.

Then he noticed something in his crystal ball. Arthur was leaving out the front door. He looked perfectly calm, but Emrys felt like it would be a good idea to follow him in case if he got into any trouble.

" _Noxte_." He waved his hand over the ball, and the image of Arthur Pendragon disappeared. The hut where Emrys had been hiding out all these years went dark. It went through some renovations over the years. Once it was an abandoned coal miner's home, but now it was run on electricity. He added his own personal touch to the place, and he liked it.

The only reason why it was dark was because it was hard to see into the crystal ball when all the lights were on and blaring down on him.

Emrys reached for his Sidhe staff. It was one of the few things left from his life in Camelot nearly a thousand years ago. He used it partially for its intended magical use, but he also used it as a walking stick. It was kind of like how Gandalf was during the scene with Théoden from _The Lord of the Rings The Two Towers_.

Yes, Emrys knew what that movie was. In fact, he has read nearly every book, watched every movie and TV show, listened to every opera, etc. for the past one thousand years. One cannot say that he is uneducated in popular culture. He still remembers quite fondly the birth of William Shakespeare.

He teleported himself to a location close to where Arthur was. Emrys remained cautious because he did not want to scare the boy off. More than anything, Emrys just wanted Arthur to trust him again. He might have failed him in his past life, but he was determined to redeem himself.***

Emrys followed Arthur at a distance. Arthur looked tense; perhaps he knew that he was being followed, but he did not acknowledge it...Actually, Emrys took that back; Arthur looked over his shoulder. For one antagonizing moment, Emrys thought that their eyes met again just like how they did at the market. Then Arthur continued walking, making no move to lose the old man following behind.

The warlock hoped that the policemen would not see him following Arthur. While he was certain that he would get away, he did not want to be on the run from the law. This happened in the mid 1300's when the people started to blame him and his magic for the Black Death. He normally did not flaunt his gift, but one day he was being foolish, and one of the villages saw him using magic on the posies they grew. Then they kept doing their best to catch and burn him for the "sake of the village." Needless to say, Emrys had to fake his own death.

Emrys then realized where Arthur was going: the Dancing Dragon. He could not think of a reason why. He did not take Arthur for a drinker, but there was the pub. Arthur quickened his pace, and he entered the alley where he was attacked almost twenty-four hours before.

"What is the clotpole doing this time?" Emrys asked under his breath. He, too, entered the alley to find Arthur gone. He noticed at the other end a figure just disappearing around the end.

He sighed. " _Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum._ " A ball of glowing light appeared in the alley. At first, it appeared to be empty. Then he saw something on the ground. His knees protested, but Emrys still got down and picked up the packaged.

It was crudely wrapped in metallic green wrapping paper. Arthur had made an effort to shield the wrapping process as though he knew Emrys was watching. The warlock did not know what was concealed in the package.

On top of the paper was a tag. Emrys yanked it off and read a single word on there aloud. " _Thanks_."

He touched the paper and muttered an incantation. " _Acht'che fluun_." Emrys watched as the wrapping fell apart and evaporated.

The box disappeared, too, leaving behind one item. It was a red neckerchief similar to the ones he still wore.

* * *

 _ **Tada. Words. Now I think I will attempt to escape the Christmas time frame. Next chapter will involve a time skip of a couple months (I want to say March of 2016). That is as of my plans right now, but that could change as I see fit.**_

 ** _Do you like that Emrys/Merlin bit at the end?_**

 _ **Thank you mersan123 and Kyromatronix for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123 and Walluruby for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu for favoriting._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	6. Please

_**Again, hello. This is Lya200 bringing you, what, chapter six of this story? *stares in mirror* Who are you, and what have you done with the real Lya200.**_

 _ **Heh, TheRealLya200.**_

 _ **Okay, I'll stop. That pun was completely unintentional.**_

 _ **Last chapter marked the end of the Christmas saga. It was full of gift-giving. One for Kay (who was less than happy with his Santa Claus bottle opener), one for Ector, and one for "Emrys."**_

 _ **Now we have a time skip to near the end of March. I don't know much about weather conditions in England, but I'm going to pretend that it is slightly warmer than it was in December. Still freezing if my own unreliable weather is anything to go off of, but then again, weather changes so frequently where I live that you cannot trust the weather people. I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be sunny today, not cloudy with a chance of meatballs.**_

 _ **I really need to stop.**_

-"Courtyard Apocalypse" by Alexandre Desplat (Harry Potter Deathly Hallows Part 2)

-"Guinevere Coronation Theme" from Merlin

-"Dark Walk" by Kevin MacLeod

-"Plaint" by Kevin MacLeod

 _ **I hope that you enjoy the chapter. I am really proud of the mess I created.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Please

There were no hugs in between them. That was just how the family operated. However, as the taxi took Ector to the airport, Arthur started to feel the same sense of loneliness that he always felt whenever his surrogate father went on a business trip. He won't admit to these feelings of attachment, of course. That would make him appear to be _weak_. However, in truth, Arthur felt that he indeed _was_ weak.

Ever since he had that vision back in December last year, it seemed to Arthur that he was going crazy. He thought that he was done with dreams having to do with the fictional world of Camelot. Suddenly they came back full force. Every night, Arthur would have one. He felt like these bouts of insanity made him appear to be weak.

Of course, this time he could not run to Kay or to Ector. He was eighteen years old for Christ's sake. Arthur could scarcely imagine how embarrassing it would look for an adult to seek comfort from the loving arms of his guardians.

Arthur tried to remember the company Ector was a part of. HSBC. It was apparently the world's largest bank. Arthur did not know why he kept forgetting HSBC.

Ector was taking a business trip to the United States, and he was going to be gone for two weeks. _March 21-April 4._ He was going to miss Easter. Easter was going to be on March 27, really early as opposed to the usual April dates. Ector was going to be gone, leaving Arthur with Kay. Mrs. Halej was supposed to be keeping an eye on the house (evidently Ector did not trust his sons).

Yet Arthur still felt alone.

If anything, Kay has become _more_ distant over these past few months. Arthur's older brother was almost never home, and when he was, Kay was not speaking to Arthur or Ector. He just shut himself in his room during the day and probably sneaked out the window during the night.

Arthur did not know what it was. The changes started shortly after Christmas. Well, actually, they probably began long before that, but, being the incredible fool he was, Arthur missed them completely until it was too late. This hurt him worse than Ector's business trips. Arthur loved Kay more than anyone, and now he shutting himself off to almost everyone, including _Arthur_.

He thought that Mary might have something to do with it. Once there was no point in hiding her from Ector, Kay started to invite her over. As Arthur had suspected, Ector did not approve of her. It was mainly her attitude and tattoo, but to Arthur there was something else. _I just can't put my finger on it._

In the eyes of Ector, his job came before family. Now he was going to be gone, and Arthur was going to stay here...alone...with Kay...who would not speak to him unless it was absolutely necessary.

Arthur, as he watched the cab turn out of the driveway into the purple and orange sunset, decided to turn in early. They had one last meal with the family an hour ago, so it wasn't as if Arthur was going to miss anything. He turned on his heel and went through the front door.

Arthur did not even bother turn out the lights in his bed room.***

* * *

 _Arthur opened the set of grand wooden doors into the room. He felt a cold numbness in his heart, but even then he could not help but feel sorry for the man leaning despondently against the spiral staircase._

 _The servant did not look up to face his master. His cobalt eyes were fixated on the white wall in front of him. If Arthur did not know any better, he'd say that Uther's death had more impact on the manservant than it did on himself, Uther's son._

 _"Merlin," he whispered. At the sound of his name, Merlin turned to face Arthur. His eyes were bloodshot with dark bags underneath. Arthur remembered that he once told Merlin that no man deserved his tears, but after shedding a few of his own for the death of his father, Arthur was not so sure._

 _"It's a new day," Arthur stated simply. It was without real feeling, as cold as it may sound, coming from his grieving lips. It should have been the other way around, with Merlin comforting Arthur, who should be blaming himself for bringing in that sorcerer. But no, it was the idiot moping on the floor with Uther's son composing himself...on the outside at least._

 _Something clicked inside of Merlin's pea-sized brain, and he stood up. Merlin gave Arthur a strange look._

 _Yet he said nothing to Arthur._

 _"You've been here all night?" Arthur asked, just wanting to hear the sound of Merlin's annoying voice...anything to cheer him up and free him from the barren hole in his heart._

 _It was then when Merlin's red lips finally moved. "Didn't want you to feel that you were alone." If Arthur was surprised at how choked the words sounded, he did not tell._

 _Arthur chose his next words carefully, as he never spoke them aloud to anyone, including Merlin. "You are a loyal friend, Merlin."_

 _Merlin looked confused above all else. He gave Arthur a look that said "_ Who are you and what have you done with the real Arthur Pendragon? _"_

 _Arthur faced away from the servant and shut the doors, a job normally done by guards and servants, but as Merlin was the only servant in the area, Arthur decided to make an exception. Merlin, instead of going home to Gaius, chose to stay here with_ him. With Arthur.

* * *

Arthur's eyes shot open. He lifted his right hand to his face to feel it wet. He hurriedly wiped away the tears in case of Mer...if Kay walked in without knocking. _Great, now I'm really going insane. Merlin is just a figment of my imagination._

But Arthur found himself doubting those very words. It was like Merlin was a real person, more than just a dream. But who would believe him if he so much as uttered those words aloud?

Then Arthur remembered that there was one person who he was sure would believe him (that he was positive existed, anyway). Emrys. The creepy old stalker/sorcerer might know whether Arthur was insane. Arthur might have been mental, however, if he would completely put his trust in the sorcerer. There was a part of Arthur that remained wary of magic. It was not a very strong part, but enough of it existed to earn itself some merit.

What did it matter, anyway? Arthur wanted _answers_. He was going to get them from the sorcerer. He waited three months already, and it was about time that he acted on his feelings instead of pretending to be interested in his tutor's lessons. George Bushnaw, however, was ridiculously boring. However, the man _did_ love to travel, so Arthur was free from lessons while Ector was away. This gave him the perfect opportunity. He was _alone_.

He was alone.

Alone.

 _He was alone._

Then Arthur remembered the whole point of his decision to go on this escapade. The words of the servant in his dream came back to him, and they made Arthur smile. _"Didn't want you to feel that you were alone."_

* * *

It was oddly convenient that Kay was actually home. Too convenient, but what was Arthur's place to say? Nothing about Kay made sense these days.

He was lounging in the armchair. The stench of cigars hung in the air, and Arthur cringed. For the time being, they were out of sight, but Arthur would have to be a dopple-head to _not_ realize what Kay and his friends were doing.***

Arthur recognized all of them but one. Mary was sharing Kay's chair, partially on his lap. Turning a slight shade of pink, Arthur also recognized Sean and Ian sitting on the couch. Unfortunately, Darcy was not around (Darcy was the only one of Kay's friends that Arthur tolerated). However, there was another girl that he had never seen before.

She had pulled up one of the kitchen chairs and was sitting in it with her arms crossed. Arthur wrinkled his nose at her face. It was as if dung had crawled up under her nose. She had fair skin and dark brown hair currently falling down her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of slate, and her nose was slightly hooked.

Arthur did not like her.

"Who's this?" Arthur asked, merely to be polite.

Kay took a moment to realize that Arthur was there. Then he said to the girl in a slurred voice, "This is Art-hur." Then, to Arthur, he elaborated, "She's an old friend of mine from the Dancing Dragon. Sorry, but she was not there that day I took you to the pub. Her name is Bella."

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Arthur."

Arthur was distracted. That name rang a bell in his head. Bella. Bella. _Bella._ Where did he here that name before?

He definitely wasn't thinking of Twilight. Bela in Supernatural was spelled with one "l," an uncommon spelling. He wasn't thinking of her, either.

Bella.

Who was Arthur thinking of? The name sounded like a knife in the back of his head.

Knife. Bella.

 _"What do we do with the boy? Kill him?"_

 _"Let's...Bella, I know that you want to kill him, but not yet."_

Bella.

"Hey, Art-hur!" Kay was snapping his fingers in front of Arthur's face repeatedly. "You alive in there?"

Arthur then realized that he had paled. "Um...yeah. Sorry...I was...sorry, I was just thinking. Hey, do you think that it'd be cool if I stayed with a friend for the next couple weeks?" He held up the backpack he had packed just in the past hour.

Kay gave him a bemused expression. "I guess so. Which friend?" He knew that Arthur had few friends.

Arthur laughed to disguise his discomfort. "Hey now, I don't question your love life; don't question mine. Bye Kay."

He hurried out of the house, all too eager to get away from Kay, his friends, and Bella.***

Arthur was almost positive that it was _her_. The voice was the same. When he wasn't having his weird dreams, he was reliving that night, trying to comprehend what happened. Her snarky voice haunted him like a ghost reaching up from its grave.

The worst part was not that she attempted to kill Arthur. No, the worst part was that she was pretending to be Kay's friend. Arthur despised the very thought. He did not know who the other attackers were, nor did he wish to care. He had one mission right now: find Emrys.

Arthur did not know where Emrys lived. He did not think that it was too far from Camlann, but then again, Emrys was a sorcerer who could teleport at the blink of an eye. For all he knew, Emrys lived at Hogwarts or in Gondor.

He could live anywhere, and Arthur would not know.

Arthur decided that it was somewhere secluded, away from the suspicious eyes of humanity. London was a bustling city full of tourists and natives alike. Definitely not inside the city unless it was along the outskirts. Even then, Arthur doubted that the wizard would risk that.

Arthur figured that Emrys might live somewhat close to Camlann. He had this hunch. What if magic were to malfunction, and Emrys lost the ability to teleport? It might have been safer to build his bungalow somewhere sort of close to Arthur's neighborhood...unless if Arthur wasn't the only one being watched, but, then again, he felt that it was highly unlikely.

His conclusion was that the sorcerer must live in the surrounding forests. There was the forest of Brocéliande. Few ever ventured in there. Some of the elders in the neighborhood (especially those off their rocker) claimed that the forest was cursed. Arthur always wanted to explore it, but the Thomas family was too well thought of to be going on adventures.

This had to be the place where Emrys lived.

Arthur estimated the forest to be a good half hour's walk. He did not want to take his car because then he could easily be tracked. Arthur still kept his keys in his backpack, though, because otherwise he thought that Kay would take the car out for a little drive. By the time Arthur found out, it would already be in a ditch.

Arthur pulled out a torch. The batteries inside it were new, but he had spares just in case. He pressed the rubber button. A beam of blinding light shot out of the top, and he aimed it ahead. Then, with a boldness Arthur did not know he possessed, he moved onward towards destiny.

* * *

Arthur looked back one last time towards the distant city lights. If his assumption was correct, and Emrys did indeed live here in this forest, then it was highly unlikely that he would be going back anytime soon. He will, though, but first he wanted to know what made him so special.

He stepped into the forest. That was followed by a second step, then a third. He continued his cautious stroll into the trees. There was an air of foreboding, but one could not say that Arthur was afraid. No, that was quite the opposite of what he felt. He felt calm. Arthur could be himself in this forest, and no one would know.

Well, no one other than Emrys.

He shined his light on the ancient trees that loomed over him. Their branches were knarled and twisted. The bark was cracked and falling away like a banana skin being peeled off the fruit. While winter seemed to be far from over, there was a thick layer of dark green leaves, preventing most of the moonlight from entering in.

Even though he knew it would be foolish, Arthur called out, "Emrys! I know you're here! Emrys! Come out."

The only answer came from the wind whistling its haunting tune and moving through the brush.

Frustrated, Arthur yelled again, at the top of his lungs, "Emrys!"

Still no answer from the sorcerer.

Arthur ignored the soreness of his throat. "Emrys?! If you _are_ here, please come out."

Arthur was about to call it quits when an exaggerated voice behind him said, "Who knew that the prat had it in him to say _please_?"

* * *

 _ **Voila. So, all that happened. Arthur has another vision (and he's been having others, but this one was important enough for me to include), Bella has returned, and Arthur has found Emrys's hiding place.**_

 _ **Just a note: I changed up geography for this. The forest of** **Brocéliande is the forest where Merlin lives in the Arthurian legends. Some say that in real life, it is actually called Paimpont forest. However, it is located in Paimpont (somewhere near Rennes, not London). But, hey, this is my story. If I want there to be a forest near London, more specifically, the made up neighborhood of Camlann that may-or-may-not-be-named-after-this-one-place, I'll do it.**_

 _ **Now we are completely starting to get somewhere. What do you think will happen? You are the readers; I am curious to know what you guys think compared to my extended web of plans for the story.**_

Guest: Thanks!

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123 and Walluruby for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu for favoriting._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	7. Propensity

_**I decided to post one last chapter before camping for Memorial Day weekend (even though I will still be using my phone and stuff in secret shh). And I am so fucking evil. I am grinning like a diseased maniac.**_

 _ **I am not sane.**_

 _ **Last chapter had Ector going on a business trip, another special vision, the introduction of Bella to Arthur, and Arthur seeking out Emrys's guidance. Apparently, Arthur has been having more visions since that Christmas Eve, but it was Merlin's reminder that he was not alone that got him to search for Emrys...and he found him.**_

 _ **That moment when you realize that Ector and Emrys's names both start with "E."**_

 _ **Plot twist! Ector IS Emrys...wait, what? Completely ignore that, I am 100% insane.**_

-"The Fellowship Reunited" by Howard Shore (from Lord of the Rings obviously)

 _ **Brace yourselves, the feels-breaking-machine is on its way.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Propensity

Arthur whipped around to face the old man. Emrys was putting all of his weight on his ornate wizarding staff. It was nearly as tall as he with ivory colored wood. At the top of the staff was a lapiz gem caged in more of the wood. Arthur never saw neither the wood nor the stone before. _Magic_.

"So you _do_ live here?" Arthur stated.

"Do I, Cabbage-head? _Do I?_ " For a moment, Arthur was afraid that Emrys had gone completely insane. He backed up a few steps before realizing that he had dropped his torch; the clearing was being lit up by Emrys's iconic ball of light.

The sorcerer laughed eccentrically. "It's about time that you found me, anyway. I will admit, you are not as much of a clotpole as you once were."

Arthur felt agitated. He figured out that the word meant idiot, yet he still could not put two and two together as to why Emrys would call him that among other insults. It confused Arthur. Then again, everything was doing that these days.

"I wanted to talk to you," he declared. He held up his hands to show that he meant no harm.

"I can see that." Emrys, too, held up his hands after lying down his staff. "Well, here I am!"

Arthur bit his lips as he tried to decide which question he wanted to ask first. "Who are you?"

"Emrys. We've been over this, haven't we, Arthur?"

Arthur face-palmed and sighed. "No, who are you _really?_ I do not think that Emrys is your real name."

"It's the name the Druids called me," retorted the sorcerer.

Arthur rolled his eyes even though that might be seen as being disrespectful. "I won't ask who the Druids are or where they are now. I want to know your real name. Please."

"Oh, look at that. So "please" really is in your vocabulary now." Emrys looked as giddy as a child on Christmas. "I'll let you figure out my name for yourself."

Arthur thought about arguing, but the old man was nuts. It wouldn't do him any good. "All right. Wha-"

"No more questions! Too late! Have to ask me another time!" Emrys waved him off. "You have to go now! Get some rest! Go on!"

"I'm staying here." Arthur said firmly. He planted his bag down on the forest floor.

"I know that," muttered the wizard. "I have foreseen it."

Arthur was taken aback, but then he remembered how the sorcerer seemed to follow him everywhere. He scowled. "Then why are you trying to force me to leave?" Arthur then added sarcastically. "What, are you trying to _defy destiny?_ "

Emrys's wild hands froze in the air. He subtly let them fall to his side. Realizing what he had said might have hurt the sorcerer, Arthur's glare softened. "Sorry."

Then Emrys plastered _another_ fake grin on his face as an attempt to hide that haunted look in his wizened eyes. ""Sorry." That is yet another word that I did not know was in your vocabulary. What, is "thank you" in there too?"

Arthur looked at him incredulously. " _O-kay._ I am just going to go...you know, find a spot to set up my sleeping bag...Unless if you are perfectly willing to invite me into your home since it is freezing out here. I would quite appreciate it."

The sorcerer tilted his head curiously. He balanced his chin on his left thumb and covered his mouth with his spread apart fingers. "I've been protecting you from harm for eighteen years now, yet I still can't seem to figure you out, Arthur Pendragon."

There it was again. Arthur saw a flash of " _crap-I-should-not-have-said-that_ " in the sorcerer's stormy blue eyes. Arthur, in a shaken voice, asked in an almost inaudible whisper, "What did you just call me?"

Emrys wobbled on his feet, and for a second, Arthur was concerned that the senile man's legs might give out. Even in the dim light that the orb gave out, Arthur could see that Emrys paled significantly. Then the sorcerer seemed to compose himself. "All in due time, my friend. It will be easier to tell in the morning. My hut is this way. Come along now."

Arthur did not understand why, but slowly his feet and the rest of his body disobeyed his brain and started to follow the old man. Arthur also could not explain why there was a part of his brain that wanted to _trust_ the sorcerer, but the visions he has been having depicted him as someone who wanted to eradicate magic.

Then Arthur remembered the reason he had for coming here. He stopped walking. Emrys noticed this and turned around thoughtfully. "Arthur?"

Arthur's fists started shaking. "How can I trust magic? How can I trust _you?_ " He paused. "No offense, Emrys."

He was worried that the old man would be offended at his lack of manners, but, on the contrary, he seemed delighted. "Good to know that you are still the same in some ways, Arthur. Come along, now, Arthur. I assure you, it is completely safe. If I wanted you dead, you would have been dead already a hundred times over."

Then Emrys continued walking with his exaggerated limp towards the once charcoal-maker's hut with Arthur following in his tread.

* * *

 _Arthur stared into the flames distractedly, his hands folded in front of his face. It was a habit of his to close himself off when he was troubled. It was his body's way of telling others that he did not want to be disturbed._

 _To Merlin, apparently, this always seemed to be the cue to speak (really annoying actually). "Do you want to talk about it?"_

 _Arthur stayed silent, choosing to instead look at the troubled face of the young servant. When Merlin decided that his king was not going to respond, he gestured with his hands and probed, "What happened at the stones?"_

 _Arthur shifted uncomfortably and looked down into his hands, knowing that he was being foolish and that if he answered,_ Merlin _of all people would be the first to point it out. At the same time, however, it would be nice to get it off his chest. He looked up. "It seems my father doesn't approve of the way I've chosen to rule his kingdom."_

 _The king half-expected for Merlin to laugh at him; it was what Arthur would have done if their roles were switched, but then, with a sincere face, Merlin corrected, "You mean,_ YOUR _kingdom."_

 _Arthur forced himself to meet Merlin's cobalt blue eyes. Then the impact of the words came. "_ YOUR kingdom _." That is right. It is his kingdom now, not his father's. Arthur was the king of Camelot, not Uther._

 _Then Arthur remembered his father's words. "The things he said about the knights..." Arthur felt a guilty probe in his chest. "Marrying Guinevere...What if he's right? What if I have..._ weakened _Camelot?"_

 _Merlin scoffed and shook his head. "No, I don't really believe that. You've_ always _done what you've believed to be right. People respect you."_

 _Leave it to the king of klutzy idiots to make Arthur feel better. "Thank you, Merlin." He looked off to his right uncertainly._

 _"Some people still think that you're a foolish, arrogant ass."_

 _That caught Arthur off his guard. He thought that his manservant was being helpful. He raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Who?"_

 _Merlin shrugged humorously, and it took all of Arthur's will power to not chuck something at the idiot's stupid face. "Very funny." Merlin was still grinning._

* * *

 _The door to Arthur's chambers opened without a knock to precede. Arthur, feeling impatient, interrogated, "Merlin, what did Gaius say? Did he have any information?"_

 _Merlin stepped inside, looking pale. "He didn't have much, but he has heard of a sorcerer. He lives in the forest. He'll be able to help you."_

 _Arthur truly was desperate, and both men knew it. "Would he be able to lead me to him?"_

 _For a moment, the prince could have sworn that Merlin looked guilty. "He's told me all that he knows. We will have to find him ourselves."_

 _Arthur ignored the face of how vulnerable he must look to the servant. The skin around his bloodshot blue eyes was red. He could barely sit down because he was pacing. Hell, he was about to employ the use of magic to save Uther, therefore going against everything that he was taught to believe._

 _Arthur felt ashamed that he was going behind his father's back._

 _"If you were me...if your father...would you use magic to save his life?"_

 _It was a harsh thing to bring up. Merlin admitted to Arthur years ago that he never met his father. Something about that seemed to click in Merlin's mind. Then, to Arthur's shock, Merlin answered without hesitation, "Yes, I would."_

 _Arthur glanced down again, deep in thought. Would it be worth his father's disappointment to save his father's life?_

 _Then he looked up and ordered, "Prepare the horses. Gather supplies. We ride at first light."_

 _As the manservant exited the prince's rooms (without a bow of course), Arthur thought that he saw Merlin smirk in victory._

* * *

 _There was a relentless pain in his stomach._

 _It hurt._

 _Where was he?_

 _It seemed as though Arthur's mind had become jumbled._

 _He couldn't think straight._

 _Where was he? Where were the bodies?_

 _Why was he not dead?_

Calm yourself, Arthur. Think.

 _It was dark. Arthur was on the forest floor, weak and injured. He knew that he was close to death. Mordred stabbed him, and..._

 _Arthur killed Mordred._

 _He_ killed _Mordred._

 _He blinked several times before noticing that he was not alone. There was a figure crouched down on the other side of the campfire. "Merlin?"_

 _At the sound of his name, Merlin stood up and rushed over to his dying master's side. "How are you feeling?" His tone was abrupt and impatient, not unlike how Arthur's was everyday since he was crowned king._

 _"Aght-aw-ow-ow!" Arthur tried to stand up, but the pain in his side was too much for him to handle. He cried out in agony, moving his hand to Merlin's shoulder to pull himself up. Arthur's manservant did the same for Arthur, but his intentions were to keep Arthur where he was._

 _"Lay back," Merlin ordered with a physician's voice._

 _Arthur cringed at the hurt, groaning and moaning. He asked, almost in a whimper, "Where have you been?"_

 _Merlin seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Doesn't matter now."_

 _"Ow, my si- my side." Arthur, now that he was aware of the pain, could not just ignore it._

 _It hurt._

 _Merlin said flatly, "You_ are _bleeding."_

 _Arthur looked down at where the sword had pierced his armor. There was a dark bloodstain in the chainmail. He leaned his head back, panting._

 _Gods it hurt._

 _"That's all right. I was dying."_

 _Merlin looked to be more upset, as though he did not want to hear these words anymore than Arthur wanted to speak them. He clutched at Arthur's strong wrist and apologized. Even though there was nothing for him to be sorry for._

 _Then Merlin continued. "I thought that I had defied the prophecy." Arthur looked at him confused. "I thought that I was in time."_

 _Arthur felt like he lost his ability of comprehension. "What are you talking about?" He continued to breathe like each breath would be his last._

 _Prophecy?_

What prophecy?

 _Now Merlin really was crying, or at least there were tears in his eyes. "I defeated the Saxons...dragon...Yet...I-I knew that it was Mordred that I must...stop."_

 _Arthur, regardless of the pain, smiled stupidly and clapped his shoulder with what little strength he had. "The person..." He breathed. "Who defeated them..." He breathed. "Was the sorcerer." How could Merlin be so_ stupid?

 _What was he...?_

 _No, it had to be a trick, an illusion._

 _Merlin can't..._

 _No._

 _Merlin continued to cry. His breathing became unsteady like Arthur's, but it was because of the tears. "It was me." He sniffled uncontrollably, and Arthur felt his grin die off his lips._

 _Then he grinned. "Don't be ridiculous." Arthur would not believe it._

 _But Merlin continued to cry like there was no tomorrow. His tears were just as much from guilt as they were at Arthur's impending demise. Arthur could not smile any more, only look at his friend in confusion. "This is stupid. What-" This can't be true. "Why would you say that?"_

 _This can't be._

 _No._

 _Arthur refused to even entertain the thought._

 _Merlin tried to say something, but with great difficulty due to his tears. "I-I'm..." He sniffed and shook his head. "I-I'm a sorcerer." As Merlin continued his crying fest, Arthur felt his eyes turn to the size of those of cattle. No. His deeply guarded suspicions could not have been...No, the king refused to believe it. No..._

 _No..._

 _No..._

 _No._

 _"I have magic..." Merlin had lost his sense of self-preservation. He was not even trying to hold back the tears, and they fell down his pale face onto Arthur's dirty armor, making soft splashing sounds as it made contact with the grime and steel. "I only use it for you, Arthur...Only for you."_

 _No. This can't be..._

 _"Merlin, you are not-" One of Merlin's unwarranted sniffles threatened to interrupt him. "A sorcerer. I would know."_

 _But would he? Arthur knew that Merlin had a secret. Try as he may, Arthur could never figure it out. He knew Merlin was hiding something, but_ magic? _Arthur found that hard to believe. Merlin was_ not _a sorcerer. There was no way._

 _"Look," Merlin said through his girlish tears and guided Arthur's head to face the campfire. "Here."_

 _Merlin turned to face the fire burning auburn in front of them. Merlin extended a pale hand that was not holding Arthur down and whispered, "_ Upastige draca! _"_

 _Arthur watched intently and in horror. The wind whistled at the sorcerer's command. The flames of the dying fire transformed into the shape of a dragon. Arthur watched conflicted as its fiery wings beat against the air, and then the sparks dissipated into the night._

 _Arthur still stared at the fire in disbelief._

 _No._

 _Merlin...a sorcerer..._

 _No, those two words were never meant to be in the same sentence together._

 _No. It couldn't be...Merlin...a sorcerer._

 _Arthur felt betrayed, and he had the right to be. He called Merlin his friend, but now..._

 _Merlin was a sorcerer._

 _He had been lying to Camelot, to_ Arthur _, for years._

 _Merlin had magic..._

 _He betrayed them all..._

 _He betrayed Arthur._

 _Arthur hummed to himself, trying to convince himself that this was a ludicrous hallucination of Morgana's, but when he turned again, he still saw Merlin holding down his shoulder protectively, like how an older brother would to his younger sibling._

 _Merlin was a sorcerer._

 _Arthur pulled his arm away and panted icily, "Leave me."_

 _That seemed to hurt Merlin more than anything that night._

 _"Arthur..." Merlin pleaded, reaching again to grasp his king's shoulder._

 _"Don't!" Arthur could not bear to look at the sorcerer. "You heard...Just..."_

 _Arthur started feeling the pain in his side again. He started moaning from the pain. Merlin had the decency to back away from Arthur, but he never left._

* * *

Arthur woke up in a spare bed that Emrys had. There was light coming from the windows, as it seemed to the blond that the sorcerer had never heard of curtains before.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He put his hand against his forehead, feeling delusional.

Merlin...

He had been a sorcerer...

He always was...

That old man in Camlann...the one who struck down the Saxons and saved them all...except for Arthur...

He was a sorcerer...

Emrys...

Merlin...

Emrys...

Merlin...

 _Emrys...Merlin..._

Oh God!

"Merlin."

* * *

 _ **Aw snap! Arthur finally figured it out...after, like, seven chapters (even though the first one does not quite count since he was literally just born). I've been awaiting this reveal for so long, and after taking this draught of insanity, I knew how exactly it should play out. I mean, there's no fun in Emrys/Merlin telling Arthur himself.**_

 _ **I'm sorry that 2/3 of this is just vision, but that is how it goes. Then a good 1/6 of it is just incoherent speech (including 16 "no's" in total). Still, it is all important for the plot and for Camelot**_

 _ **How do you think Arthur will react to Emrys being Merlin? Obviously there are some questions that need answering.**_

 _ **Please review, as reviews make me happy :D**_

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123, Walluruby, and moroflake for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu for favoriting._** __

 _ **~Lya200~**_


	8. Prince Prat

_**I hast returned. Hello. Chapter 8 is done. Arthur will sort of get his answers, because Merlin/Emrys wants to only speak in riddles.**_

 _ **Prior to this chapter, Arthur finally actually starts talking to Emrys. He attempts at getting answers, but the old man would not give him the ones he wanted. As he sleeps in Emrys's house, he gets three visions in a row that lead him to the conclusion that Emrys is Merlin, leading us to this point of time. We all know that Emrys is Merlin. Finally Arthur is not in the dark.**_

-"Disintegrating" by myuu

-"Beyond" by Ross Bugden

-"A Far Green Country" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

 _ **And, yes, Merlin is intentionally referencing Lord of the Rings. I feel like modern him would love the series.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Prince Prat

Arthur sat up with a jolt. "Merlin."

He could not get the image out of his head. No wonder the sorcerer was familiar to him. The ridiculous neckerchiefs suddenly made sense, as this was nearly always Merlin's choice of attire. And those _eyes_. They were the same shade of cobalt blue, except when he used magic. Then they flashed a brilliant shade of gold, more golden than anything that Arthur has seen before.

Arthur closed his eyes. Yes, he could see it now. Merlin taking some potion to age him several years so that he would be utterly unrecognizable. Yet it was that set of eyes that gave him away. Plus, he admitted to Arthur that he was the sorcerer.

Arthur realized how much of an idiot he must sound. Merlin, nor anyone else, was not real, yet he could not say so aloud without fear of doubting his words. Merlin, a sorcerer. Those words actually fit well together when Arthur thought about it.

However, even if Emrys indeed _was_ Merlin, was he still now? By all means, he should be dead from time.

Arthur should have been dead too.

 _Emr- Merlin has some explaining to do._

He tossed the loaned out blanket onto the floor. If this indeed was Merlin, then he should not have a problem cleaning it up. It was not Arthur trying to be a prat, but that was their relationship in the past, and something told him that Merlin would welcome the chance to be Arthur's servant if it meant that Arthur would regain his memories.

That is, _if_ Emrys is Merlin.

Emrys. Merlin. Yeah, Arthur could see that their names fit together.

 _Merlin was Emrys._

Arthur had to confront the sorcerer about it. Maybe then he might get the answers he still desired. Arthur could see in the protective looks the old man gave him that he truly wanted to keep him safe. If he could convince Merlin that knowing the truth would help him survive, then that'd be great.

Arthur dressed himself in silence. Nothing overly extravagant; just a normal blue button-up, trousers, and shoes. However, Arthur felt rather self-conscious of the fact that Merlin might laugh at his ability to dress himself. He had no qualms with mocking Arthur's manners. Even though the "Arthur" in his dreams seemed to think that manners were beneath him, this was the Arthur of the now.

* * *

When he was ready, Arthur went to seek out Emrys, wherever he was. The hut might have been small on the outside, but inside was not proportional; it was around the size of Arthur's house.

He scrambled out of the guest room to the smell of…waffles? The blond man sniffed cautiously. Yes, those were definitely waffles in the air. The sorcerer did not seem the type to eat waffles, but if he was right and Emrys was Merlin, then Arthur was not in much of a position to be judging the older man.

Arthur decided to trust his nose. He allowed the aroma of the food carry him to what must have been the he kitchen. Emrys's beard was tied back to keep from falling into the griddle. Arthur almost felt compelled to laugh at how _ridiculous_ he looked. Almost.

"Good morning, Emrys. Did you sleep well?" Arthur grinned boldly. His eyes trailed over to the syrup. Then he thought of something. "Wait, how do you know what waffles are?"

In his irritating voice, the sorcerer retorted, "How do _you_ know what they are?"

"My father got the recipe from my mother. She was American after all." Emrys nodded. "But how do _you_ know about waffles? You don't really strike me as the American type."

Emrys scratched his long beard. "When you get to be my age, you learn all sorts of things. I know how to pretty much make any meal in the world. I have too much free time." He smiled at Arthur. "Now, I know that you did not come here to praise my cooking skills. Talk, boy."

Arthur bit his lip to keep from retorting. If this person was Merlin, he had to be careful. He did not want to offend the man before getting his answers. So no use of the word "idiot." At least, not until Arthur felt like he would be safe in doing so.

Arthur drummed his fingers on the table, avoiding the icy blue gaze of Emrys's ancient eyes, of _Merlin's_ eyes. "You say that your name is Emrys, yes?"

"I am, or at least, according to the Druids."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, right. What does the name even _mean_? I have never heard such a name like yours before in neither my life nor in my dreams."

The expression on Emrys's face turned somewhat thoughtful, yet, at the same time, it was unreadable. "The name itself, well, I suppose that I can say. It means 'immortal.' Now, before you ask about that," he added as Arthur opened his mouth to interrupt, "let me ask you something. You said 'dreams.' Care to elaborate?"

Arthur mentally cursed himself for revealing such a crucial detail before it was time. "Every night," the blond began, "I have been having these visions. They are silly, really." He scoffed loudly. "Stupid little stories about me being heir to the throne or even king. Magic. Nothing to be believed. They went away when I was young." Then he sighed. "Except I know now that magic exists. Then they come back."

Emrys nodded distractedly. The edges of his mouth were curved somewhat in a smile, but Arthur barely paid attention to that small detail. Then the sorcerer patted Arthur's shoulder. "Hmm. They are nothing to trifle with, but do not forget them just the same. Trust me, Arthur. And do not speak of the meaning of my name for anyone else to hear," he finished with a warning note.

Arthur got the sense that Emrys/Merlin knew more than he let on, but all the man did was speak in riddles. "Okay, next question. What do you know of my father?"

The old man did not answer as he was dishing up breakfast. He was humming a little tune to himself, all but ignoring Arthur's question. The spatula in Emrys's hand scooped up one of the waffles and laid it to rest on a platter Arthur could have sworn was not there before. He then passed the dish and a fork to Arthur. "Breakfast."

Arthur picked up the bottle of syrup and drowned the food in the sticky substance. "Please answer my question, Emrys."

Emrys, who had been looking down at his own food, looked up hesitantly. Then he answered, "Your father...goes by the name of Ector Thomas. He is a businessman, a ruddy good one at that. He cares for you just as much as his own son. Currently he is visiting the States."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I was talking about my real father."

"Is he not your real father?" Emrys retorted. Arthur was surprised at the venomous tone behind the words. "Did he not raise you since birth with no expectation of an award? Did he not love you and care for you like his own son? That, I believe, makes him more your father than anyone. Next question, now."

Arthur groaned. So far, he has gotten zero answers that clarified anything. He was dying to know who his biological father was, but Emrys's mouth was shut. _One of these days, I'll get all the answers I want out of this man._ "Fine. How about this? Who were those people who attacked me that night? And why? What makes _me_ so important?"

"Slow down, kid!" Emrys waved his hands frantically. "One at a time. First of all, let me explain something. Throughout history, there have been several... _organizations_...that have popped up around the world. Some are good, some are bad, some are just plain ruthless. For example, there was the Ku Klux Klan in the Americas, the Nazi party in Germany, and ISIS now. However, what if I were to tell you that they all stemmed, or, in KKK's case, were 'strengthened,' by one man?"

"But that's impossible!" Arthur yelled abruptly. "That man would have to be at least hundreds of years old."

Emrys laughed. "Who's to say that he is still alive? The ideas can live on for centuries, Arthur. All these terrorist groups came and went. However, as there is one ring to rule them all, there is one group to lead them all. The group came to be somewhere in the last six decades, just after the Second World War ended. The group came to be known as the Eyes of Camelot."

"Camelot." Arthur knew of the name from the Arthurian tales and his dreams. There it was, spoken aloud in the flesh. "Who are they?"

"The group," Emrys stated bitterly, "is _obsesse_ d with reinstating the original laws of the land of Camelot. You know, tyranny, anti-magic laws, all those sorts of fun things. They want to eradicate what is left of magic. Most importantly, they are in search of the true heir to their throne. The Eyes of Camelot, however, are ruthless in their ways, wanting nothing but power and fear in the hearts of others."***

Arthur felt a pit form in his stomach. "What would they want with me? I am just a normal guy, right?" Emrys did not answer. "Right?"

The man sighed. "I cannot give you the answer you seek. Arthur, you are not normal. I take it that you know the stories of King Arthur, the Sword in the Stone, the Knights of the Round Table, and all those things."

Arthur nodded. What was Emrys suggesting. "You can't be saying..."

"Yes, I am, Arthur. _You_ are the Once and Future King, Arthur. You have been dead for nearly one thousand years. At long last, you have returned to the world of the living, as it was prophesied long ago. The stories were true, however, their details have changed greatly over the centuries. Those dreams you've been having are your memories of your past life. As for the Eyes of Camelot, what they want with you is simple: they either want you to lead them to glory, or they will see you dead in turn of one who would share their views."

"I guess that explains why they called me their 'prince,'" Arthur mumbled. He picked at his syrupy food. He, a _prince_? He found the whole idea laughable. The Legend of King Arthur, well, was nothing but a legend. Emrys was just pulling his leg.

Then he remembered a lesser-known detail of the stories. As a child, young King Arthur, or Wart, as he was called, was cared for by a noble and his son, Kay. There was also an ancient wizard who lived through time backwards, Merlyn.

In Arthur's memories, there was Merlin. Apparently Merlin was Emrys. He came onto that solution before hearing that he was the reincarnated form of King Arthur. There was nothing as of now to disprove what Emrys was saying.

"If I really _am_ their prince, why did they attack me? And who is their Master?"

"The Eyes of Camelot was formed under a once-innocent idea, to see the true king back onto the floor, but since then, the idea was corrupted. The "Master" wants to see you, alive if possible."

"But who is he?" Arthur whined in frustration.

"I have some theories, and I have some answers, but this is neither the time nor place for them." Arthur did not know how Emrys could stay so calm with his answer.

"And of the Pendragons? I suppose that is my real last name?"

Emrys nodded. "Yes, it is. It is your namesake. Do not forget it." He waved a crooked finger in the air to show his point.

Arthur's head was spinning. Keeping his eyes facing in front of him, he fiddled around in his pocket for a dented watch on a chain. Arthur flashed the image of the dragon towards Emrys so that he could see the engraving. "They called this the Pendragon crest. Is that true?"

Emrys narrowed those cobalt eyes of his. He took the trinket in both of his hands and examined it. "Your brother gave you this the morning of your eighteenth birthday, yes?"

Arthur nodded. "I don't know where he got it from. He said a friend gave it to him."

The sorcerer shook his head. "Well, I don't see anything unusual about it other than the Pendragon crest. My advice to you is to keep it hidden, keep it safe. Any potential ally of yours will recognize the symbol."

Arthur felt his ocean eyes widen, flabbergasted. "Allies? What would I need allies for?"

Emrys touched Arthur's shoulder, and he flinched a little, not used to physical touch as a sign of love. "Son, we're at war. You will need allies."

 _War._ Arthur stared at him with one of his funny facial expressions. "I have you, though, with your sorcery. Where did you learn magic, anyway."

Arthur found his chance, and he took it. If this was Merlin, then something about his answer will give him away.***

The man snorted. "My sorcery might not be enough. As for your question, my answer might be different from what you expect. I did not simply learn to use magic; I am magic. I was born using this gift. All my life, I used it for good. However, as magic is neither good nor evil, and I _am magic_ , I could just as easily use it for evil. That is the price of being magic. I'm a warlock, not a sorcerer. Frankly, I'm the last of my kind. So no, I did not learn magic anywhere. Rather, magic learnt from me. Does that answer your question?"

Arthur found himself nodding. At first, he thought that Merlin was a sorcerer, but no, he seemed to be a warlock. Somewhere in those words, he could hear his old friend.

Merlin was a _warlock._

In addition to that, Arthur was _the_ King Arthur, or, as Merlin called him, the Once and Future King. There were some, twisted by their views, who wanted him to lead them in world domination. Emrys called them the Eyes of Camelot. They called him their prince, and they wanted to take him _alive_ to their Master. That thought in particular made Arthur want to vomit.

Warlock. Prince. Two completely different people, but, as Arthur realized, their destinies were intertwined.

"Well, look at that!" Emrys's voice shot out like a cannon, shaking Arthur out of his thoughts. "You have allowed for your food to get cold!"

Arthur glanced down at his plate with his soggy waffle. He barely taken any bites out of it, and now it had lost its freshness. "Whoops."

Emrys laughed and rolled his eyes. "You really are a clotpole. No matter, I can fix this." He took the plate.

Arthur could not stop himself. "Thank you, Merlin."

Emrys gave Arthur the weirdest of looks. Then, his blue eyes twinkling, Merlin looked away, and Arthur knew that he was correct in his assumption.

* * *

 _ **Not much happened in the chapter, but now Arthur knows that Merlin knows that Arthur knows that he is Merlin/Emrys.**_

 _ **Now, here is an interesting thought. If magic is neither good nor evil, and Merlin IS magic, wouldn't that make Merlin neither good nor evil? Just think about that. He could be a weapon.**_

 _ **The group of bandits are not alone. They are just a bite-sized fraction of a larger group known as the Eyes of Camelot. Yep. There is a lot more information left to be shared about them, but I did not get around to sharing that. Seriously, I have a long backstory on them. It is great.**_

 _ **Can Arthur on accident break one of Merlin's pots next chapter? I want to use that now because I just remembered that whole bit. Tell me. Your opinions, whether they are praising or critical, are obviously important. I love constructive criticism, and I want to get better at writing. So please review.**_

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123, Walluruby, and moroflake for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu for favoriting._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	9. Patience

_**Chapter 9 is done, and ready for action. It is short compared to the others, but then again, this is just a filler chapter...except for the end. You won't want to miss that.**_

 _ **I think that the title loosely was inspired by my sister refusing to give me a shot at the laptop. I typed the majority of this chapter on my phone, hence why it is so short. I went over it this morning with my brother's laptop, but it is still short (only by a couple hundred words compared to rest of the chapters).**_

 ** _So, recap of last chapter. Merlin sort of/kind of explains everything, sparking even MORE questions. The group of people who attacked Arthur turn out to be a part of a larger organization called the Eyes of Camelot, led by a mysterious man dubbed "The Master." They are interested in Arthur, who now knows that he is THE King Arthur from the legends (because a version of them exists in this world). Merlin tells Arthur he is a warlock. Arthur reveals that he has the visions. Then he thanks Merlin, not Emrys._**

 ** _Longer recap than usual._**

 ** _I finally was able to actually watch the last three episodes of Merlin. I love how you are just recovering from Arthur's death. His body was sent down the Lake of Avalon by a grieving Merlin, Guinevere is crowned queen, Excalibur is cast into the watery chasm from whence it came (had to), and practically the entire cast dies. Then a blue semi drives right by your face, and it is still Merlin. None of my family seems to get how strange that is because Merlin is a MEDIEVAL show. Trucks are definitely not a thing._**

 ** _Still weird to feel my heart and soul being torn to shreds._**

-"The Road Goes Ever On Part 1" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings...again)

-"Farewell to Gwen" from Merlin

 _ **I blame my sister for some events that transpire this chapter (that's a first; usually I blame my brother).**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Patience

After Arthur thanked Merlin, it was awkwardly silent. The waffles were returned to freshness by magic, and to Arthur, they tasted as good as anything. Merlin had excused himself immediately afterwards, leaving the younger man alone in the kitchen.

Was it too soon? Arthur hadn't wanted to offend the old man. The words just slipped out of his mouth, and now the damage was done. That is, if there was any damage to be done. The Merlin he felt like he knew was not the type to hold grudges.

Besides, Arthur noted with a light smirk, it did not seem like Merlin was upset. Quite the contrary, actually. Arthur remembered the twinkle in his eye when he thanked him. Merlin was waiting for Arthur to find out the truth on his own. Arthur was not afraid to admit that his past self was dim and self-absorbed (though maybe a teensy bit of that prattish side was carried over into this life). He was set on making things right.

For instance, as prince, he treated Merlin like dirt. Granted, that was just their relationship. However, times changed. Just this morning, Arthur was content with leaving his things on the floor for Merlin to pick up, but now Arthur was coming to regret that decision. It was strange. The conversation the two just had made Arthur realize how horrible he was. It might have been that now he knew the truth, Arthur lost the stress that had been building up for the past three months.

The group of bandits who attacked him, or the Eyes of Camelot, may no longer haunt his dreams. Bella and the rest of her cronies were nothing compared to Merlin. Before, Arthur was not sure if he was real. He saw Merlin from time to time, a quick glimpse of his long beard in the marketplace or a swish of his cloak in the movie theatre. But for all he knew, Arthur could have just been hallucinating.

Still, the blond had questions. For example, if he actually was King Arthur resurrected, then why was he brought back? Out of all people, why him? There were plenty of others far more deserving of a second chance than him.

Also, why now? Why did it take him eighteen years to remember? There were bits and pieces still missing. Arthur knew that at one point, he was crowned king instead of normal prince, but he did not know how that came to pass. He knew little of how Morgana betrayed him even though they were friends once. When it came to Guinevere, his feelings were hazy. Arthur knew that something was missing, yet the Once and Future King could not describe it.

One thing made clear was Merlin's position. From annoying youth to servant to friend, Arthur's views constantly changed. And now he knew that Merlin was a sorcerer the whole time. Arthur supposed that he should feel betrayed, but that was not the case. There was now a sense of closure, however small. He guessed that he must have always suspected it, but he repressed the idea in fear of alienating his friend.

Arthur then realized that he had been picking at his syrup for five minutes snow. He licked his fork clean then laid it down neatly on his plate. He rose from the wicker chair and stretched, suddenly feeling refreshed. Arthur smacked his lips loudly before seeking out his former manservant.

Even though Arthur knew that he had no right to call him that anymore. No, Merlin was much more than that. Why did it take Arthur two lives to see that? Ever since they met, Merlin's been protecting Arthur, even if he did not know it.

The front door was ajar. Arthur, figuring that Merlin was outside, too went out the door. There, he was met with a sight he did not expect to see ever in his life time. The old man was stroking the silver mane of a strong white unicorn.

Arthur started forward, but Merlin, without looking up from the creature, held up a hand. _"Stop, Arthur. You'll scare him off."_ His lips did not move.

Arthur froze in his tracks. He heard _Merlin_. Not Emrys, but Merlin's voice, the voice of the manservant who served him years ago. The man did not speak aloud. _Was this yet another thing I don't understand about magic?_

 _"Yes, clotpole."_ Merlin looked up to give Arthur a warning look.

Arthur gasped. _Did he just read my thoughts?_

 _"Yes. We can communicate this way. That way, there are no secrets between us."_

 _"That's creepy,_ Mer _lin."_

Merlin smiled faintly at Arthur. He ran his wrinkled fingers through the silver hair of the young unicorn. _"You know, it's been awhile since someone has called me by that name. I was almost afraid that I was hearing things when you called me 'Merlin' in the kitchen."_

 _"Sorry?"_ Arthur scratched his head, his eyes darting between Merlin and the foal. He was unsure if he should approach the sorcerer and the mythical beast, however beautiful it may seem.

 _"It's quite fine, actually. The last time someone referred to me by that name was back in 1943 or so."_ Then Merlin's gaze gained a faraway look. Arthur returned it with a questioning look.

 _"Is everything fine, Merlin?"_

Merlin jumped. He blinked several times before staring at Arthur. _"Yeah… It's nothing to worry about."_

He did not believe him for a second. Arthur narrowed his eyes and tried that reading minds trick. Merlin, however, had placed a mental wall to keep out intrusive minds.

 _"Come on, Arthur!"_ Merlin laughed mentally. _"If I_ really _wanted people to read my thoughts, I would speak them aloud. You will have to try harder than that. Remember, I have had years of practice to keep other people from invading my thoughts."_

Arthur scowled. Merlin has been alive for however many years, apparently. Arthur should not be too surprised at all the tricks he had picked up. Arthur glanced at the unicorn, who gave him a curious look. Its eyes, too, were blue, but there was a certain beauty to them that made it hard to look away. Arthur's mouth dropped despite himself.

 _"You can get closer if you would like."_ Merlin tilted his head upward. _"I promise, he does not bite."_

 _"It's not that I'm afraid. I don't want to upset him."_

Merlin rolled his eyes, a funny sight on an old man. _"Just walk over here, slowly."_ As an afterthought, he added, _"You know, like how a hunter would approach his prey."_

Arthur obeyed, his arm outstretched to meet the graceful unicorn. His feet barely made any noise on the forest floor, which was still littered in brown leaves.

 _"Easy. Easy now."_

Arthur grasped it gently by its golden horn and patted its neck with the other hand. It seemed to enjoy his touch. The unicorn nuzzled his head against Arthur's waist. _"I didn't know that they still existed, if ever at all."_

Merlin chortled, but his laugh did not frighten the young animal; it was so trusting of him. _"There are many things in this forest and the surrounding lakes and forests that would seem to be a part of myth: unicorns, pixies, dragons, mermaids, me…"_

Arthur felt his eyes widen even though there should have been little room for surprises. He should have expected this. _"All of that, here? No wonder the people advise against coming here."_

Arthur heard a low chuckle. Merlin waved a hand, and Arthur saw the air shimmer. _"Actually, that's my doing. I have enchantments placed to dissuade people from coming here. For some reason, however, they didn't seem to work on you."_ He scratched his beard. _"I can't think of a reason that would make sense."_

 _"It might just be who I am?"_ Arthur suggested, remembering that flood of information about who he actually was.

 _"Maybe, but it can't just be that. It does not feel right."_ A pause. _"You're taking this in surprisingly well."_

Arthur grinned sheepishly as he continued to caress the fur of the foal. _"I might have known it deep down. It would take a lot to break me."_

 _"Just like Arthur Pendragon. Quite surprised that you didn't lop my head off when I told you I had magic, even if you were dying."_ Merlin shrugged at the uncomfortable memory. He and Arthur both knew what happened, Arthur from the vision just last night, Merlin because it too haunted his dreams along with the rest of the memories of Camelot.

 _"I guess that I am just great at holding it together. I mean, isn't that what a king is supposed to do?"_

 _"Or maybe just dollopheads? If I had known that it would be this easy to convince you, I'd have done so_ ages _ago."_

Merlin stopped petting the unicorn. The young unicorn stared into Arthur's face. It bent its front legs in a sort of a bow before prancing away. Soon, the creature had disappeared into the trees.

 _"Do all the animals here treat you so?"_

"Sometimes." Arthur jolted when Merlin spoke aloud with the croaking old man's voice. _That's right, this is Merlin_ now. _My friend has aged._ "However, he was not bowing to me, but to _you_. All the magical creatures were alerted to your birth. Finally, after a thousand years, the Once and Future King had risen again. They recognize you as the _true_ king of Albion."

"How?" Arthur asked. He did not like the idea of a mass of animals sneaking into the maternity ward after his botched birth.

"There was a shift in the Lake of Avalon. Frey- The Lady of the Lake told me where I might find you, not unlike the story of the Three Wise Men and Baby Jesus."

Arthur cocked his head like how a child would. "Lady of the Lake? So she was not made up just for the tales?"

"No. Actually, the majority of the characters were accurate, but the story was changed. The Sword in the Stone was not meant to answer to the true king. You only pulled it out after you were crowned king and I had put it in there years before to hide from everyone else. And don't even get me started on the Knights of the Roundtable. For some reason, in the legend, they made your uncle the brother of Gwaine and two others."

"Um...?"

"Again, nothing compares with how the creators of the legends made it to where Mordred was your illegitimate son."

"What?!" Arthur knew that detail, but from what it sounded like coming from Merlin's mouth, the detail was just a rumor. He breathed easier. "What of Guinevere and Lancelot? And Morgan Le Flay and her many sisters?"

"Nothing more than some returned feelings towards each other in the beginning and an "affair" that was actually a ploy concocted by Morgana and Agravaine," Merlin assured.

Arthur did not remember the full extent of his love for Guinevere, but the news was comforting. _So she was not a traitor after all._

"As for Morgan Le Flay, well, I take it you know of Morgana. She had a half-sister, Morgausse, and..." Merlin shook his head and put on a goofy grin. "Of course, you already knew that I was _devilishly_ even handsome back then, not an old warlock like now. Though I am still good-looking."***

"That is questionable, _Merlin_ ," Arthur joked, clapping the wizened man on the shoulder.

"Shut up, Arthur."

"You know that is my thing, _Mer_ lin."

Merlin stuck out his tongue at Arthur. "Still, I'll never tire of hearing my own name."

"Be careful, or you might give yourself a big head."

"It will never get as big as yours was, you pompous _prat_." He stretched the "t" sound.

Neither of the men seemed to care how odd it must look for an old hermit to be arguing with a young adult. They were too caught up in their bantering, just like old times.

* * *

Arthur rolled over in his bed, cringing a little. One might think that he was just having a particularly unpleasant vision.

However, that was not the case. Actually, he had been in the middle of an enjoyable memory involving him throwing knives at Merlin, who was carrying a wooden target.

Merlin stood watching from the doorway, having heard the disturbance. His hearing had become enhanced over the years, the exact opposite of what usually comes with age. He had figured it had something to do with the Crystal Cave. Or it might have been because of his large ears.

There was no harm being done to Arthur. Nevertheless, Merlin was troubled. He had not expected this change in events.

Then Merlin started to hear it, too.

It was a repetition of the same word over and over again. Arthur tossed and turned, lashing out at the thin air. He was trying to reach for the speaker, but he was not there. In fact, he was miles away, speaking. Arthur may not have recognized the deep voice, but Merlin knew it and chuckled. He left the doorway, feeling oddly at ease.

The speaker was repeating the same word again and again, thus causing Arthur's distress. Not that he wanted to frighten the Once and Future King. He knew that with time and patience, Arthur will figure things out for himself. So he just said the boy's name like a broken record to be sure that he was heard.

 _Arthur._

 _Arthur._

 _Arthur._

* * *

 ** _Yep. Unicorns and mysterious voices. I blame my sister for the inclusion of the unicorn, and it stuck around. It should have been here only for a couple of paragraphs, then it stayed much longer than I intended. At the same time, however, it is easy to imagine Merlin just wasting his immortality on petting unicorns night and day._**

 ** _Please review. I know that I pretty much say that every chapter, but I like knowing what you think about my writing. This story has a long way to go, but I can only do it with your support._**

 ** _And I ended up not having Arthur break a pot...yet. I feel like that event will come to pass._**

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123, Walluruby, moroflake, ScruffydaDruid, and KaylaFlaishans for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu and ScruffydaDruid for favoriting._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	10. Phantoms

_**I wanted to get this out days ago, but wifi has been a pain. I've had to re-edit my documents so many times. Let's just hope that I am successful.**_

 _ **Previously on Lya200's story "Arthur"**_

 _ **Merlin and Arthur communicate via telepathy. Arthur makes a unicorn friend, who bows to him because it recognizes that he is the Once and Future King. Merlin is enjoying hearing his real name again. And someone is calling Arthur's name.**_

 _ **Dammit, why won't people let me work? Take THREE of writing the music.**_

-"Dumbledore's Army" by Nicholas Hooper (Harry Potter)

-"Very Old Friends" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

 _ **disclaimer: I hast "borrowed" some creatures from the Harry Potter universe. See "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" by "Newt Scamander" (cough JK Rowling cough) for details. Great read.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure 

* * *

Phantoms

Arthur glanced out the window. In his opinion, the glass could do with a great deal of cleaning, but it seemed that Merlin was just as lazy in this life as he was in his past. Not that Arthur cared about looking out the fogged up glass. In fact, he was barely registering his surroundings at all.

At this moment, he was thinking. Yes, what a feat that was. However, it just so happened to be the truth. Actually, he spent a good portion of his time thinking, despite what others seemed to think.

Arthur was just trying to take it all in. After yesterday, he had been unable to see his dreams the same way. He was supposed to see that each event in the dreams actually happened. However, last night, there was a voice. One moment the dream was as clear as usual. Then it was as if all sound was muted but for that voice. It was obviously male, and it sounded so ancient... _Almost like Merlin._

Arthur knew that it was not Merlin. He was used to the voice. Yet he knew that he did not imagine the voice. It was as ancient as Merlin was, if not more. Arthur had no idea _who_ it was.

They knew his name. Then again, more people knew Arthur's name than he originally gave credit for. He did not have a whole lot of contact with people because he was homeschooled. He had few friends growing up. It was mainly just Kay and him.

 _I wonder how Kay will take it._ Or should Arthur tell him? It was not his surrogate brother's business. Knowing him, Kay would probably drunkenly reveal Arthur's secret. Then Bella would find out that Arthur knew. He relished knowing that he was secretly a step ahead. They counted on his ignorance. They did not try as hard if he seemed like easy prey.

The idea of going to Ector was laughable. He did not know how to take a joke; Ector did not even know when someone was being serious or not. He would call Arthur out on "making it up."

So the only person Arthur could talk to was an elderly warlock who apparently was his best friend a millennium ago. Yes, that seemed right. Things were _really_ going swell, weren't they?

Arthur laughed dryly. Between being a long-dead king and immortal warlocks and forests of unicorns, Arthur did not know what was myth anymore. Next thing Merlin would be telling him would be that smurfs were real. For all Arthur knew, they were. He snickered at the idea of the tiny blue creatures actually existing.

Arthur felt his phone buzz in his pocket. _Does Merlin actually have service out here?_ He opened the message and found it to be from Kay.

 _Hey, do you care if a couple of my friends use your bed since you're not here?_

Arthur almost did not want to respond. Last thing he wanted was to have a member of the Eyes of Camelot sleeping in his bed. Kay did not even know who they were, however, and Arthur was not up to explaining when he did not even know the full story himself.

 _Whatever. As long as nothing shady happens, I don't care._

Then Arthur put his phone away, sighing. At least Kay was the same in some ways. However, he could not shake that feeling that something else was going on. _I hope that he's doing okay without me there to babysit him._

Arthur was bored of sitting around. Being idle was never fun, of course, but there were times when it was bearable. Now the blond just wanted to get up and do something, something productive. The word "hunt" swam through his head, but what would he shoot? Helpless unicorns? No thanks.

Besides, he did not know this forest that well. Yes, Arthur knew that there were unicorns and other magic creatures, but the majority of them were probably dangerous. What would he hunt with, his dagger? He'd get killed by a misjudged creature of magic before so much as snaring a two-headed rabbit.

Maybe a normal walk in the woods? He might as well get to know this forest. Arthur planned on staying here for as long as possible. Somehow, he knew that this was the only safe place for him to be since Kay seemed to be making friends with the wrong sort of people. Of course, he could not stay here forever. Ector would start missing him.

He pulled the leather jacket off the back of the chair. After checking to make sure his watch and knife were in its pockets, he slipped on the garment. Arthur patted down his jeans' pockets for his phone and wallet. He was using his spare driver's license, but sooner or later he would have to recover the original, even if it was long gone.

At least he had one name to blame. Bella. Even so, she was just a pawn playing the game of another, more powerful man, the Master. Merlin seemed to know who he was, yet he did not tell Arthur. By now, surely this "Master" had possession of the driver's license, all the proof he needed that this indeed was Arthur.

 _Why couldn't I have been reborn in a different body and with a different name?_

Ector had told Arthur the story of his birth a few times before Arthur learned not to ask. The doctors did not know what went wrong, as his mother's pregnancy had no problems before. Then, on the night of his birth, that cold Christmas Eve, it was as though another force was at work, counteracting everything the doctors did. It was said to have been a miracle that Arthur had survived. Madalyn lived just long enough to name here child, yet she had no reason to name him "Arthur." It was as if the same force was at work yet again.

Arthur now had reason to blame magic.

Not that magic was all that bad. Merlin's shown him otherwise. It was only those who wielded the magic that gave the power a bad name. Arthur could neither blame nor thank magic for anything. It was the reason that Arthur was still alive, but sometimes, the Once and Future King could not tell if that was supposed to be a good thing.

Now he was getting off track. Arthur was _supposed_ to be exploring Broéliande. Yes, it was around eleven in the morning, and Merlin was nowhere to be seen. He went out before Arthur woke up, leaving a note written in an untidy scrawl and a bagel (with a bite taken out of it) on that table. The note detailed the following:

* * *

 _Clotpole, I have went on some errands of SEVERE importance. I do not expect to be gone long, perhaps just the day. Do what you will, but please refrain from smashing my pots. You broke my favorite pot once about a thousand years ago. Funny story (for another time of course)._

 _When I return, there is something I wish to discuss with you. It involves you and your destiny and the only one who can describe it completely. I just need to gather the right supplies. If it would not pain you to do so, find some clothes decent for outdoor wear. I am NOT washing your socks. -Merlin_

 _P.S. Your bagel was very good. Thanks for letting me have a taste._

* * *

Of course, Merlin could have just as easily eaten his own breakfast. Then again, he could have also been more descriptive about where he was going instead of talking in riddles.

A thousand years alone must have really addled his brain.

Not that Arthur could blame him. He did not know what he would do if he had to watch all his friends grow old and die while he lived an immortal life. Who has he been talking to this whole time, the lake?

For some apparent reason, he found a set of hiking boots in his room. They were a size too small, but he figured that they would do for whatever the warlock was planning. Now that Arthur had some time to kill, he figured that it would not hurt to break in those boots with a trek through the forest. What could possibly go wrong?

 _The famous last words_. Arthur snorted. Any number of things could happen. He was putting his trust in a man who could have him dead in a second. He was choosing to accept this magic around him. All the while, there were still those who wanted him dead, or rather, they wanted him alive and as their prisoner.

 _Yeah_ , a quick walk would be nice to clear his head.

He exited the hovel. When Arthur turned to look back at it, he could not hid his amazement at how _dingy and little_ it looked. It was practically a doll's house, yet the interior felt like a normal house. Of course, it had to be the doing of magic. Arthur could not imagine why a spell designed to make a location appear to be smaller than it actually was would be necessary in a place where there was already an enchantment in place to dissuade people from coming here.

Yet it had not worked on Arthur. Arthur had almost no qualms about entering the place, and that was only from villager warnings, not from an inner voice like how Merlin had described. People in town always looked at him strangely when he was young and stupid and wanted to visit the "cursed" forest. Well, it was cursed all right. Cursed against those brave at heart so that they did not enter Emrys's realm.

Arthur saw few normal creatures about. Yes, there were some squirrels waking from their hibernation, a few birds having already returned from their migration south, and Arthur thought that he saw the flash of a deer out of the corner of his eyes. However, he also saw an abundance of magical creatures.

For example, there was what looked like an underfed vulture in the trees. Its feathers were a greenish black. It was moaning loudly, unlike what birds were supposed to do. There was also what looked like a winged horse in the distance, but it seemed to have the head of an eagle. Actually, when Arthur thought about it, it reminded him of a hippogriff. Arthur also thought that he saw several glowing yellow eyes in the bushes. When he parted the shrubbery, however, he was met by fluffy animals with fur in all the colors of the rainbow.

While the atmosphere seemed pretty calm, Arthur could not shake the feeling that he was being watched. Well, he was by all these animals, but he felt like he was being stalked by something of intelligence... or someone. Surely that was impossible, though. No mere human was supposed to be in this forest.

That did not appease his sense of unease.

Then he saw them. Their edges were blurred, and the figures were distant, but Arthur noticed vague apparitions far off in the distance. They were humanoid, and he knew that there was no way possible for them to be real, yet he paid attention just the same.

There were three of them. The one closest to him was clothed all in black, the same shade as her flowing mess of ebony curls. Even from the distance, Arthur could have sworn that her nude mouth was curled upward in a snarl. In her emerald eyes was a look of pure loathing. Arthur felt uncomfortable under her sharp glare, but she made no move towards him. Then again, she couldn't have if she wanted to, as she was but a figment of Arthur's wild imagination.

The second figure stood somewhat close to her. He looked similar enough to be her brother, even though Arthur figured that they were not related by blood. He was young, really just around Arthur's age, yet there was an intelligence in his cold eyes. It betrayed the fact that he had seen too much horror. The young man, too, was dressed in dark clothing, but it was not terrifying. The clothing was merely an assortment of brown and grey furs to keep him warm. His facial expression, while partially shielded by his curly black hair, still shown him to be conflicted. His eyes periodically flicked towards the woman with dark hair.

Finally, there was a young woman. Whereas the other two had pale complexions and raven hair, she had dark skin and wavy brown hair. She had coffee-colored eyes, and they looked on Arthur in (how else could he hope to describe it) _adoration_. Her lips were pursed in a smile. Even though Arthur felt no breeze, the folds of her salmon-colored dress fluttered as if the wind was blowing. Her hands were folded in front of her, as if she were a servant waiting for further instruction.

Arthur deliberately ignored the other two apparitions in favor for the third one. She stood the furthest away, yet she was the one he saw most clearly. She was the one he was most inclined to join. The raven-haired woman caught the look of wonder Arthur was giving and scowled at the woman.

"There you are."

If Arthur had not been self-conscious, he would have jumped at Merlin's voice. He turned around slowly, his hand travelling to the pocket where he kept the knife. Then he released a breath.

"You know, it is not a good idea to sneak up on people. _Someone_ could get hurt."

Merlin feigned a look of fear, which was unbelievable on his elderly face. " _Oh_ , I am so scared! What on earth will this cabbage-head do to me? My magic will be of no _use_ against his dangerous knife he always keeps in his _pocket_."

"Merlin..."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I got it."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I was going to comment that sarcasm coming from your lips makes it hard to take you seriously regardless. It is not a good look for someone as old as you." He took a breath. "But yes, shut up."

Arthur glanced towards the apparitions, but they were gone. It was as if they never existed in the first place.

"What are you looking at?" Merlin pretended to be interested in the air where Arthur was staring.

"Err, nothing. I thought I saw something." Arthur knew that he was going to use this excuse a lot.

"Might want to get your eyes checked. We don't want a blind king." Merlin chuckled and glanced at the objects in his hands. He smirked. "Hey, dollophead! Catch!"

The warlock tossed Arthur a canvas bag. The sack landed at Arthur's feet. Flushing, he opened it to find granola bars, a metal canteen of water, a spare change of clothes, and a few other things. "What's this for?"

"This," the warlock said as he held up his own pack, "is for our trip. Do you have any problems with mountain-climbing?"

Arthur shook his head. _What was Merlin planning?_ "No, but where are we going?"

The old man stroked his beard, his eyes clouding in thought. "To talk to an old friend of mine, Kilgharrah."

 ** _Okay. Any more problem? Can I actually finish this?_**

 ** _Oh, yes. Kilgharrah. Should have been easy enough to piece together. I hope you enjoyed. I certainly enjoyed WASTING 3 WHOLE DAYS TRYING TO SAVE THIS DOCUMENT. And then Cheer Camp, so no updates are possible until Wednesday. Which'll suck, because I want to start the next chapter already._**

 ** _What do you think will happen next?_**

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, Pompous Butterfly, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123, Walluruby, moroflake, ScruffydaDruid, KaylaFlaishans, , Pompous Butterfly, and XxTheMoonRiddlexX for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu, ScruffydaDruid, Lala3200001, and for favoriting._**

 ** _Special thanks to mersan123 for reviewing almost every chapter._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	11. Precipice

_**I am BACK! Yeah, I was stuck at cheer camp with no wifi, no contact with the outside world. I did not hear about Orlando until this afternoon when I returned. Really sad.**_

 ** _At least cheer camp was Harry Potter themed. Since I am a CRAZY Harry Potter fan, I loved it. We drank butterbeer (even though it did not quite taste like the real stuff), we played Quidditch, I was deemed the ultimate witch because I am_ clearly _a Seer. Now I have a pet chocolate frog that now resides on my Shelf of Requirement._**

 ** _Let's leave the talks of cheer and Harry Potter and move on to talk about Merlin and this story. All weekend, my thoughts have been with this story (when I was not thinking of Harry Potter obviously). I actually planned out the entire conversation with Arthur and Kilgharrah. My intentions were to have it as a part of this chapter. Then writing happened, and I figured out that the chapter was getting too long. So I split it just as I wrote the last line of dialogue. Just like that. Sorry._**

 ** _Previously, Arthur takes a walk to clear his head and sees the apparitions of his dead friends/enemies (AKA, Morgana, Mordred, and Guinevere). Merlin (who was gathering supplies) comes back, neither really confirms nor denies seeing these "phantoms," and tells Arthur they are off to see Kilgharrah._**

-"Elven Rope" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

-"Knights of the Round" from Merlin

-"Harry Surrenders" by Nicholas Hooper (Harry Potter)

-"Lily's Theme" by Nicholas Hooper (Harry Potter)

 _ **There we are. A nice list. Now one more thing left to say.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Precipice

Arthur did not sign up for this. When he sought out the help of Emrys, he had little idea what he was getting himself into. Arthur did not know then that he was royalty, even if it only rang true a thousand years ago. He did not expect that Emrys would turn out to be _Merlin_ of all people. Arthur did not plan on meeting unicorns and being dragged off on adventures and accepting magic.

Yet the first thing he asked was, "Kilga-who?"

The answer was a small smirk and, "The Great Dragon."

No, Arthur was not expecting dragons. True, he thought that Merlin mentioned dragons at one point, but he did not think that they would have a name, or that he'd even have a chance to meet one.

"Dr-dragons?" He chuckled nervously. "You're joking, right."

Merlin tangled his fingers in his beard. "Would I lie to you?"

Arthur refrained from answering Merlin.

Merlin shrugged. "It does not matter what you think. Come on, boy. We're going nonetheless. Kilgharrah knows more about your destiny than I do."

And that is how Arthur found himself scaling a precipice. Time and time again, he'd ask aloud why Merlin couldn't just magic them to the dragon. However, his elder by a thousand years mentioned something about wards being in place that made it to where no one could get there by magical means. Since the climb was potentially dangerous, few tried to climb the mountain. According to Merlin, it was one of the safest places to hide a dragon. Logically.

Arthur tried to convince Merlin that a visit to the Great Dragon was by no means necessary. After all, Merlin was Emrys, the most powerful warlock to walk the Earth. The word of a flying lizard should not matter.

However, it turned out that Kilgharrah was a thousand years or so older than Merlin, and he still went to the beast for advice. For some apparent reason, Kilgharrah had _demanded_ to speak to Arthur. Merlin claimed that it was he who was calling Arthur's name.

Arthur still did not see why this was such a good idea.

He was not entirely hopeless with mountain climbing. He went with Ector and Kay a few times. Of course, the cliffs he climbed were much safer, and he was better prepared. However, Arthur decided that it was all right to admit to himself that he was fairly decent at scaling mountains. It seemed to come naturally to him. Probably another side of "Prince Arthur" showing. If he knew where this dragon's domain was, he'd be able to go by himself. Not that he would; he did not fancy the idea of meeting a dragon alone.

Merlin had changed his attire for the climb. Instead of his sorcerer robes (Arthur felt like the choice of clothes was actually only to spite him because he let slip that the outfit was ridiculous), Merlin was wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a pair of his own boots. Arthur noticed that these boots actually fit him compared to his own. He was almost positive that he was getting blisters from the poorly fitting shoes.

Merlin was in the lead. As he climbed, his feet dislodged some rocks. They crumbled down the pass. Arthur shut his eyes and braced himself should they fall into his face. The stinging pain he had expected never came.

He peeked up at his elderly guardian. The golden eyes flashed to a vibrant blue, and Arthur noticed that the stones were frozen in midair. The largest and most jagged one was inches away from Arthur's face.

Merlin growled, "You should be more careful, Arthur."

"But you were the one who-" Merlin gave him a look. "Never mind."

Needless to say, Arthur made a point to stay out from under Merlin.

* * *

"We rest here," Merlin announced once they reached a ledge at some point nearing dusk. "The trip could have been completed ten times over had I been alone."

"I was not the one slowing us down," Arthur retorted sourly. Somehow, Merlin always managed to slow him down, whether it be by causing miniature avalanches or complaining that his legs were too tired to continue and forcing Arthur to lift him up the mountain.

Merlin rolled his eyes. _"Bæl on bryne."_ A pile of driftwood ignited into an orange inferno. There were flecks of blue at the roots of the flame.***

"How far _is_ your friend?"

"Far enough from civilization. Think of how normal people would react if they knew that dragons were more than legend."

Arthur shrugged, seeing the truth of his words. "How much farther, then?"

Merlin calculated the thought. "I'd say, another hour or so of a journey."

Arthur glanced at his backpack where he had set it down. "Come on, then." He picked it up. "We can make it before dark!"

Merlin stayed where he was with his legs crossed in front of him. "Have you ever tried reasoning with a dragon after dark?"

" _Have you?_ " Arthur asked.

Merlin's face darkened considerably. "Yes, I just so happen have. We stay _here_ until dawn."

"What if it is nocturnal? I do not think that it would be wise to wake a sleeping dragon." Arthur knew that his efforts to argue were futile, but he was anxious to learn more about himself.

"He is, but he will wake if I command him to do so." Merlin gave the blond a solemn look. "Now find a cozy part of the ledge to sleep. I will keep watch. No, I do not expect anything bad to happen, but, you know, it is better to be safe than sorry."

Arthur innately wished that he was strong enough in this world to fend for himself. However, all he had was that pocketknife that originally belonged to one of the Eyes of Camelot. It wasn't as though he was trained how to kill since birth.

Meanwhile, Merlin had magic. He could, as much as Arthur did not like to admit it, be the difference between life and death. There was a part of Arthur that was scared of him.

* * *

 _Smoke. Ash. Ruin. What had become of Arthur's beloved kingdom? By night the dragon who had somehow gotten free from the underground chains would wage war on the peaceful Camelot, destroying thousands of lives in its wake. By day, the prince was left to deal with the families missing children, parents, siblings, and spouses. They had all but lost hope. The soldiers ceased their attempts to put out the fires left by the vengeful beast._

 _Arthur loathed to admit it, but Camelot was dying. Its walls were built to keep out enemy armies, not dragons._

 _Uther was pacing behind his desk. An older scribe was jotting down Arthur's report. Merlin was standing in the back, not there to serve wine of course, but Arthur was so used to his presence that he did not care. Even when his services were not required, he was there._

 _Merlin looked like he had seen a ghost. It was not as if he was listening. He was just despondently staring off into space. There were dark circles under his eyes from lack of rest. Granted, nearly everyone in Camelot had such circles. However, Arthur noted that Merlin's were different, like they were the result of guilt._

 _Arthur shrugged it off. It must have been because Morgana was gone. That blonde sorceress, Morgausse, took her from the safety of Camelot's walls in front of both Merlin and Arthur. There wasn't anything they could have done to have stopped the witch._ Try telling Merlin that.

 _Arthur was kind of grateful that she was not around for the dragon's attacks on Camelot. However, he was not sure if being in the company of a sorceress was any better. Magic was evil, corrupting the hearts of men and women alike. In fact, it was probably the reason why they were cursed by the Great Dragon in the first place._

 _Arthur reported stoically, "The dead number forty-nine men, twenty-seven women. Further, eighteen women and children are unaccounted for. Most of last night's fires is now out. Castle walls..." Arthur paused, almost too tired to speak. "In particular, the western section collapsed..."_

 _The king interrupted, "Do we have any further idea how it has escaped?" Arthur saw that Uther had paused in his steps._

 _Sir Leon, who was standing in the back of the room, answered, "I regret to say, Sire, we don't."_

 _Merlin's eyes shifted, gaining him a warning look from Gaius. However, Arthur, who was exhausted, paid no attention to this small detail. It was too trivial to be of any importance. He removed his gloves and thrust them onto the table._

 _"There must be some way to rid ourselves of this-" The king cut himself off. Uther was pacing again. He spoke with a yawn._

 _"Other race," the scribe spat venomously. Arthur sat down in one of the chairs, moaning soundlessly at the chance to relieve his legs._

 _Uther stopped leaning against the window, through which dawn's light shone through. He turned his head to face everyone before landing his eyes on the physician. Merlin cowered._

 _"Gaius?"_

 _Gaius bowed his head, conflicted. Then he looked at the king grimly. "We need a dragonlord, Sire."_

 _Arthur looked up from the wooden table. For a moment there, he had thought that he had been dozing off (during this entire week he probably only had a couple hour's rest), but the words of the elderly physician snapped him back to reality._

 _Coldly, Uther responded, "You know very well that's not possible." He turned to look again out the window._

 _"Sire, what do you- There was indeed one last dragonlord."_

 _Uther turned again, his eyes in denial. "That's not possible."_

 _"In fact, there was." Gaius, whose face was already lined with worry and decades of service to the crown, could not have looked more grave._

 _Arthur's father stared at him for a long moment. Even though Gaius was no longer obligated to stay as he was a freedman, he still offered his service to the Crown. King Uther trusted him more than anyone, even Arthur sometimes. He walked slowly towards Gaius, resting his hand on the back of Arthur's chair for a moment._

 _"Please say."_

 _"They may just be rumors," Gaius replied stiffly._

 _"Go on," Uther urged calmly. However, Arthur, having spent years with his father, could see that he was growing more and more impatient._

 _Gaius sighed. "I'm not exactly sure, but..." Gaius smiled wryly. "I think his name is Balinor."_ Is _. Not "was." Gaius knew for certain that this "Balinor" was in fact still living._

 _Uther paled. If there weren't other witnesses in the room who had heard the same name spoken from the court physician's lips, he might have refused to believe Gaius. However, they all heard the name._ Balinor _. Even the name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of men set upon eradicating magic._

 _"Balinor," murmured Uther._

 _"Where does he live?" Arthur asked from his chair. He knew what dragonlords were. If there was a way to save Camelot with little use of violence, he'd take it. Even if...Arthur gulped inwardly...even if it meant turning to the dragonlords._

 _"He was last seen in Cenred's kingdom, the border town Ealdor." Hastily, Gaius contradicted, "But that was_ years _ago."_

 _Arthur rose, rubbing his left arm. Something was not adding up. Even under stress, he still knew it. Maybe it was that Ealdor was Merlin's hometown, and he could have been living next to more than just one sorcerer for years? "If this man still exists, then it is our duty to find him."_

 _"Our treaty with Cenred no longer holds. We're at war. If they discovered that you were beyond our border, they would kill you." Arthur did not miss how his father somehow missed meeting his eyes. It was at that moment that Arthur knew that if he was anyone other than Prince Arthur, his father would not object, even if he was too stubborn to admit such a thing._

 _Arthur glanced down determinedly. "I will go alone." Uther attempted to interrupt with a "no," but Arthur persisted, "That way I will not be detained."_

 _"No, Arthur." Uther shook his head. "It is too dangerous."***_

 _Now the argument had shifted from being between king and employee to being between father and son. "More dangerous than staying here?" He nodded towards the window, towards the ashen ruins and thick black smoke obscuring the sky. "I will not stand by and watch my men die if I had the chance to save them."_

 _"I've given you my orders," King Uther snapped sternly, his tone commanding._

 _With a wary voice, Arthur whispered to his father, "Do not make this a test of loyalties."_

 _Uther raised his voice. "I am not talking to you as your father, I am talking to you as a_ king _."_

 _Arthur frowned. If this was what being a king was, then he did not want it. He did not want to be known as the coward who let his kingdom flounder because of a winged serpent. Arthur bit his lip and sighed. Then, with a look towards his father, he answered, "We ride immediately." He pushed his way past._

 _Uther's voice echoed from behind him, "My concern is for you."_ Was that all it took to get him to admit his concern for his son, for _me?_

 _Arthur turned around, seemingly uncaring. In fact, he could have fooled nearly everyone in the room. Well, maybe not everyone; even though he was an idiot, Arthur could never seem to get past Merlin._

 _"Mine is for Camelot." Uther stared at Arthur wide-eyed. Normally, he never disobeyed the king. When he did, it always came as a shock to the long-time ruler. "I'll send word when I've found him." Then, to his equally-as-surprised manservant, he ordered, "Prepare the horses." Then he walked out of the room with Merlin following close behind, however with more respect towards the king than what his own son showed him._

* * *

Arthur stared at the lightless cave ahead. It seemed as if the blackness could not be penetrated by any modern light source. Yes, he was surprised a little when Merlin wrenched a torch (a medieval one, not electric) from the naturally-made walls and lit it with magic. Then he thrust it into Arthur's hands. He almost dropped it, but luckily he maintained a grip on the ancient device.

Then, with no sound, Merlin walked forward into the cave, ushering Arthur inside with a flick of his wrist. Arthur ended up lighting the way for the both of them. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, some nearly as big as Arthur. Stalagmites grew from the cave floor, threatening to trip the two adventurers who could very well turn into lunch for a dragon.

 _Well, Merlin thinks he can control the dragon. He is either a fool, or there is some truth to the words._ Arthur did not like either option completely.

"No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny."

Arthur was startled at the words. "Wh-who said that?" It was not Merlin; the voice was off.

Sounds of dripping water entered his ears from all directions. _Drip drop drip drop drip drop_. Their footsteps were muffled by the mud sticking to their shoes. _Pad pad pad._ Their breaths were hot in their faces. _Huff huff huff_. No, wait, that was the dragon.***

Arthur could not move. His gaze was fixated on the massive creature in front of him. Its scales were nearly black from age, though, in the places where the light of the torch reached, Arthur saw that they sparkled gold. It was impressive indeed. However, he was more concerned with the smoke rising from its nostrils and that _look_ that it gave Arthur.

He glanced backward at Merlin, but the warlock was leaning against the wall with his mouth in a tight line and his arms crossed. He nodded at Arthur encouragingly. Merlin did not, however, stand up to offer more support to the young man.

"We-were you the one who said th-that?" Arthur stuttered at the serpent.

If dragons could smile, it did. "Hello, young Pendragon. Long time, no see." It bared its teeth, and Arthur backed away until his back was against the wall. He waved the torch out in front of him, forcing light to refract in all directions as it reflected off the toughened scales and the watery walls.

"Scared are we?" Kilgharrah jeered, though Arthur believed that it did not mean to be unkind. "I would be surprised if you weren't."

"You!" Arthur pointed his finger at you. "You were the one calling my name in my dreams."

"Not _dreams_ , Once and Future King." Arthur winced at further proof of his true self, a shadow of who he once was. " _Visions_. Every event that you see in your visions has already happened, with the exception of my voice, but I needed to speak to you. It is time that I tell you more about your destiny."

* * *

 ** _And that is where I cut it off when I split the chapter in two. Expect the next part in a couple of days so that I can revise it. Otherwise this would have been decades long. I really do not want to make the same mistake I made with The Haunted One-Shots._**

 ** _Yeah. Kilgharrah is to blame for that cliffhanger. Originally, yes, there was a cliffhanger, but it was much worse than this. This just happened out of the blue. Originally, the flashback was supposed to have been Merlin telling Arthur that he killed the dragon (therefore being really short). The trouble was that I could not find the clip on YouTube. Therefore, I had to result to using a different clip that was longer. It still plants the idea that the dragon was an enemy in Arthur's mind, but it takes more words to do so._**

 ** _Next chapter will have the conversation between Arthur and Kilgharrah. Of course, since he is a dragon, he speaks in riddles. It'll be fun. Maybe not to Arthur. Ten points to Lya200._**

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, Pompous Butterfly, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123, Walluruby, moroflake, ScruffydaDruid, KaylaFlaishans, , Pompous Butterfly, XxTheMoonRiddlexX, and rmatri540 for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu, ScruffydaDruid, Lala3200001, LILI . Namikaze, and rmatri540 for favoriting._**

 ** _Special thanks to mersan123 for reviewing almost every chapter._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	12. Prophecy

_**Whoop, writing workout. Who knew that it would take so long to write a conversatio? I would have gotten this out sooner, but I went to see Captain America on Wednesday, and on Thursday, I went to the community pool. Today was my first real chance to write.**_

 _ **I came up with the prophecy at the pool with the help of my siblings (who only helped with rhyming, nothing else). I know it by heart now because I had to recite it over and over again.**_

 _ **I'm getting ahead of myself. You do not know the prophecy yet.**_

 _ **Now, there will be THREE POVs this chapter. We all know Arthur's, and I am sure the other is obvious since I've used his input before, but there is a new perspective. Stay tuned.**_

-"The Sword in the Stone" from Merlin

-"The Voice of Sauron" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

 ** _Now read with care, my friends, and remember to tell me what you think._**

Let's Go On An Adventure 

* * *

Prophecy

 _"No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny."_

Arthur gaped at the dragon, remembering the words that the dragon called out before he could even see him. Then the winged beast told Arthur that it was time that he knew more about his destiny. It did not matter that there was a difference between dreams and visions. Merlin barely scratched the surface.

"You tried to destroy Camelot." Arthur did not mean to say that. It was a rude thing to say, and the subject did not pertain to the matter at hand.

Kilgharrah chortled, and he was joined in by Merlin. "I have."

Arthur chuckled uncomfortably, sounding like the bray of a donkey. "And you want me to believe whatever you tell me?"

"I do." The golden eyes of the Great Dragon flickered in amusement. "And I expect you to listen. The fate of Albion rests on your shoulders just as much as Merlin's."

The aforementioned warlock nodded slowly. He met Arthur's wide-eyed gaze with a grim smile. "Two sides of the same coin, Kilgharrah. Don't forget to mention that."

"Of course I will not forget a detail as important as that. What do you take me for, warlock?!"

Merlin snorted and bantered back, "Well, you do have the tendency to leave out some details."

The dragon rolled his golden eyes. "Not when I deem them important."

Arthur, lost, spoke up, "What's this about a coin?"

As if just remembering that the blond was still there, Kilgharrah and Merlin shared a look and laughed. Merlin answered politely, "Just more "destiny talk." You and I, we're two halves one coin, to paraphrase it. Neither of us can reach our destiny without the aid of the other. My destiny was to protect you and help you with your own. As for your destiny..." He looked at the dragon expectantly.

Arthur, too, stared at the scaly beast, trying not to give off the impression that he was afraid. Although, who wouldn't be fearful for their life around a creature with talons the size of an entire human being? Deep down, he supposed that he knew that Kilgharrah would not harm a hair on his head, yet Arthur still felt uneasy.

Kilgharrah boomed, "The story of you two has been prophesied long before Merlin was even born, much less you being reborn, young Pendragon. Together, you were to rebuild Albion. However, not in your lifetime, I am afraid. After your death centuries ago, Albion was united in grief, if only in words. There was an uneasy truce, as some, while they thrived on war, were afraid of the repercussions and the declaration that the king's manservant had secretly been using magic. Queen Guinevere seemed for the idea, so there wasn't anything they could do unless they wanted death. She, the Once and Future Queen, oversaw the United Kingdoms until her death. Your line continued through your son, conceived on the eve of Camlann."

Arthur frowned. Camlann was the name of his neighborhood, yet he seemed to have died there. Destiny had a funny way of playing tricks on people. Arthur was reborn the place he died. It was an ironic thing.

And then there was Guinevere. Kilgharrah called her the Once and Future Queen. Could that mean that she, too, has been reborn in this world? Arthur found himself hoping that was the case. Just hearing her name made him feel elated, though he could not explain.

Yet his response to all this was, "What was his name?"

Kilgharrah must have been expecting something different, for he replied, "Sorry?"

With more intensity than he intended, Arthur shouted, "What was my son's name?!"

It was Merlin who answered. "Tom. Tom Arthur Pendragon. He..." He hesitated. "He was a good king."

Arthur shut his eyes. Hesitations never meant anything good. "What happened to him?"

Merlin looked away. "I did my best to protect him, as I did with you. However, about ten years into his reign... Gwen had already passed on from age, there was nothing I could do... Well, he got sick... It was raining much more than usual that spring... He was already married. Her name was Josephine... She was already expecting; Gennete. However, as the girl was not born yet, rule fell to Josephine after Tom... left. Josephine was Annis's ward; you remember Annis? Anyway, she was the heir to Caerleon as well... It was Josephine's line that kept the throne, as Gennete was never quite interested... She was actually a lot like you."

Merlin paused, finally looking at Arthur. To his concern, Merlin's cobalt eyes were watering. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I did my best to take care of him. You'd think it would have been war that got to him first... No, it was damn pneumonia. He saved a child lost in the forest during the rain... Tom never liked to stand idle when others needed help... The kid survived, he did not... If it is any comfort," Merlin joked forcefully, "Tome was just as much as a clotpole as you. Your legacy lived on. True, it was toned down a bit because he inherited some of Gwen's senses, but he still managed to live a decently long life... Well, longer than yours, anyway."

Kilgharrah, at that moment, faked a cough; Arthur doubted that dragons needed to cough. "Ahem."

To himself, Arthur muttered, "Tom. Gennete." He wanted to remember these names. Maybe he could get ahold of some documentation of his line after that. Louder, he said, "Back to my destiny. I sort of get that I was supposed to have united the Five Kingdoms, but if they were already united, then why was I brought back?"

Kilgharrah's eyes clouded over, but at the same time, they shined brighter than all the torches on this Earth. Then, he chanted something greater than time itself.

* * *

 _"Two halves of the same whole,_

 _Born of magic and of soul._

 _In this kingdom, magic returned_

 _Once the warlock's secret hast been learned._

 _At the hands of a druid, the great king dies,_

 _But when Albion's need is greatest, he shall arise._

 _The Once and Future King will rise again_

 _When greed and evil plague the hearts of men._

 _Reunited with the Emrys immortal,_

 _And acting upon the corrupted king's chortle,_

 _King and Warlock will bring back_

 _Magic, friend and foe where they lack._

 _Conflicted minds and broken coins,_

 _With the Witch the Traitor joins._

 _Round table and immortal blade,_

 _At the Rock where destiny is made,_

 _Be careful for what you wish, Once and Future King_

 _For your choices turmoil will bring."_

* * *

Arthur found his ears ringing after the spectacle for the ears. This had to have been that prophecy he kept hearing about. He was stunned into silence even though he wanted nothing more than to ask for clarification.

Merlin said that they were two halves of the same coin, so that first line made sense, and the second line could be explained with connected destinies. The part about the return of magic and his death and the hands of a Druid sort of made sense (though he still did not know who the Druids were other than for his visions). Yes, he was reunited with Emrys, or Merlin as he decided to call him.

Then there was the rest of it. Corrupted king's chortle? Definitely had to be the Master. Bringing back magic, friend and foe? Arthur wanted to say that meant returning magic to this Earth, both dark and friendly, yet he felt in his heart that his assumption was wrong. He did not want to think about conflicted minds, broken coins, round tables, and immortal blades. It just sounded like an unfriendly gambling dinner party in Arthur's opinion. A traitor joining a witch? He knew no witches, and he had no one who could become traitors other than Merlin and Kay. Neither would betray him, though. A rock where destiny was made?

 _What the bloody hell was that?_

"What?" Arthur asked after his moment of stunned disbelief. "What the hell was that?"

Kilgharrah cocked his reptilian head, "The Disir's prophecy, written thousands of years ago. That is all I have to say on the matter without giving potential false-truths, for even dragon's could be wrong on the occasion, as Merlin is ever so kind to remind me. Interpret this how you will, Once and Future King. In the coming months, you will have to make many choices. Be sure to make the right one." He started to flap his wings, beating down heavy gusts of air upon Arthur and Merlin.

Strands of blond hair whipped around in the dragon-made wind. Holding his head and squinting his blue eyes, Arthur called out desperately, "But what of my heritage? Why was I brought back when there's nothing for me here?"

Still flying, the Great Dragon said mysteriously, "The answer lies with your sire."

"But who is he? Who is my _father?_ "

Kilgharrah cackled, "Be careful, young Pendragon, or Albion will fall apart. Only you can prevent the world from falling into oblivion." Then, still chortling, the Great Dragon flew out of the cavern into the nearest abyss of blackness.

Arthur scooped up the nearest stone and threw it in the direction in which the dragon disappeared, no longer scared, just confused. "Get back here, you overgrown flying lizard!" He gave up, and groaning, Arthur slid down the wall on his back. There was no use in trying to reason with a dragon.

Merlin chuckled where he stood, but he tried to muffle it into his neckerchief. Even in the body of an old man, he still seemed to act like the clumsy manservant he met in Camelot.

Arthur questioned in an exasperated voice, "What, Merlin?"

Merlin was practically dying of mirth. "You..." Merlin snickered. "You just insulted a dragon. I thought I was the only one. You must either be very brave..."

"Thanks?"

"Or very stupid," Merlin finished stupidly, causing Arthur to glare at his former servant.

"Shut up. Now, could you possibly shed some light on this prophecy for me? Without speaking in riddles," he added once the warlock opened his mouth.

Merlin stuck out his tongue. "You're no fun, prat. I'll be honest, that is my first time actually hearing the prophecy, but, you know, Kilgharrah has been my acquaintance for a long time. I sort of kind of got the gist of it."

Arthur nodded hopefully. "Go on. What does it mean?"

Merlin prodded the damp walls, leaving trails in the grime. "Stuff and things. The beginning is clear and has already happened, but it seems like we will get more allies, but one will betray us to another with magic. The question is, who?"

Arthur frowned. "Kilgharrah called Guinevere the Once and Future Queen. What does that mean? I thought it was just me."

"So did I," Merlin murmured honestly.

* * *

"So did I." Merlin did not know anything about Guinevere returning. Even with his periodic visits to the Lake of Avalon, he has never seen a sign of Gwen being reborn.

 _Maybe she is not yet reborn. Or... Perhaps her return will be because of a different method, like the others..._

 _Stop it, Merlin. You vowed to not use that spell anymore. Not after what happened to..._

"Well, what else should I know? Like, what about my father?" The blond prince was standing again, tapping his foot in impatience. Merlin was relieved that the old personality traits were returning to _his_ prince. He mused that it would be too much to hope that he would retain some of the manners, however, but Merlin could dream on. He's been doing it for a thousand years, only the subjects of the dreams were darker and filled to the brim with death. _Arthur's death._

Merlin carried his chin. "I think that it is a little too early for that, Arthur. I am not sure you are ready yet."

The truth was, Merlin was not sure that he _himself_ was ready to share the news. He did not know how Arthur would take it. It was a secret he carried with him for a millennium. History repeated itself nearly eighteen years ago, same circumstances of birth, only this time, it was Merlin's fault.

* * *

Many miles away, in a castle hidden in the midst of a long-forgotten valley, a man was resting both hands on the armrests of his chair. It was more than just a chair, however. One could call it a throne. It was made of solid gold with rare gems embedded into the surface. He sat upon a rich velvet cushion, complete with swan feathers to make it extra soft.

He was awaiting for news from one of his most trusted allies against magic. He thought that magic would have been eradicated by now. But he was wrong, so he decided to finish what King Uther Pendragon started all those years ago.

Of course, he needed recruits. Gone were the days when a king had an entire army at his disposal, an unquestioning army with no conscience. He could not offer up a platter of gold to every mercenary in exchange for their allegiance. Even in these ranks, he had few he could trust.

Several years ago, he was foolish. He trusted many people. Look where that got him. He was forced into hiding in this castle, the Castle of Verdois. He did not choose this place to reside. He was supposed to be feared, feared by those of magic and those of not alike. Feared and respected.

 _If it weren't for that cursed Emrys, I would have my way by now._

He would make that sorcerer curse the day he heard that despicable name. It was because of him his plans were foiled. He could have gotten his hands on the _prince_ months ago. In fact, he could have even done something when the boy was just born.

No matter. The Master crossed his hands and smirked despite his annoyance with the _old freak of nature._ Arthur will swear fealty to him eventually and become the Master's right-hand man. He will provide insight on the workings of Emrys's mind.

He fingered a thin piece of plastic. It was a peculiar object with Arthur's face emblazed on its surface. They called it a driver's license. He would know that face from anywhere, that dorkish smile, those clear blue eyes.

The double set of doors opened loudly, the sound reverberating along the bare walls. There were few furnishings in his castle. The few that did exist had the Pendragon crest, something that only existed in books or in the hands of the Eyes of Camelot.

His spy walked in. She was smiling, but it did not quite reach her eyes. They were a soft baby blue, still sparkling with a youthful innocence, therefore making his enemies easily trust her. She wrapped one of her brown curls around her finger.

He asked in great haste, "Well?"

"It is done. I have his full trust. You already knew that, of course." She paused before reluctantly adding, "However, there was a complication. The prince has went to stay at a _friend's house."_

The way how she worded it told the Master that she did not believe the boy's lie. Good, that made two of them. "Emrys. It has to be Emrys. He must have been the one protecting that boy in the alley. Do you know how long he'll stay away?"

She shook her head, flipping her hair. "Can't be longer than two weeks; his _father_ returns from the Americas by then."

He grinned. "Well, we can't have that. You!" He pointed at one of the guards. "Send a convoy to intercept Mr. Ector Thomas. Show him a warm welcome. And please, don't harm him. Not yet, anyway."***

The mercenary bowed. If he was disgusted with the plan of action, the filth did not show it. The Master liked that about his men. Their submission was far better than he could have hoped. Unfortunately, however, that left little room for creativity.

Turning back to the brunette, he said, "We can't have Arthur thinking that he has a family to go back to. One day, he will learn of his true family and come to accept them. _Us_."

She laughed fearfully. "Yeah. About that, Master." She glanced over her shoulder, a habit of hers when she felt threatened. "I have an idea for a potential recruit. My time in London has led me to believe that his services would be promising. I swear to you, I am not letting my feelings cloud my judgement."

"Spit it out!" He was intrigued, though he had an idea who the girl was talking about.

Mary Dursley flashed her golden crowns. " _Her first real smile_ ," the Master observed. "Kay Thomas, Arthur's adoptive brother."

* * *

 _ **WHA? What?! Is Mary an enemy too? What?**_

 _ **Yeah, it was a good idea for Arthur to get out. But poor Kay. He is in for a rough ride full of manipulation.**_

 _ **What the bloody hell are Kilgharrah and Merlin talking about? In this chapter alone, I have included so many clues to essentially most of the events I have planned out for this story. Okay, not all of them, but there are quite a few. And that prophecy. It is fantastic.**_

 _ **Now ponder this, my friends. What connections between characters do you think exist? For example, why is the Ma**_ _ **ster so obsessed with getting Arthur on his side. Or what kind of past does Merlin have with the Master.**_

 ** _On a happier note, can we all just approve of Arthur's insult to Kilgharrah? We must all call him "overgrown flying lizard" now in our FanFictions._**

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, Pompous Butterfly, AndreKl, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123, Walluruby, moroflake, ScruffydaDruid, KaylaFlaishans, , Pompous Butterfly, XxTheMoonRiddlexX, and rmatri540 for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu, ScruffydaDruid, Lala3200001, LILI . Namikaze, and rmatri540 for favoriting._**

 ** _Special thanks to mersan123 for reviewing almost every chapter._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	13. Pre- and Post-Rebellion

_**Yep, I've given up on restricting chapter length. Before I know it, I'll be posting 10,000 word chapters next. Actually, there is a possibility of that for the future. I am not a seer, yet I know that for a fact. Maybe I should talk to Morgana, you know, bring her back to life, so that I can ask her if that is a possibility.**_

 _ **I have another Merlin story: "The Prat and the Pauper." Have you ever read "The Prince and the Pauper?" Well, I don't want to give too much away, but it takes place early on in Season 2, and the two boys are kidnapped, and the bandits don't know who is who, and yeah. It's a fun read, and I can guarantee that you will love it.**_

 _ **I am also debating a one-shot for Merlin, so keep that in mind.**_

 _ **I know that this took a little while to come out, but as a reward, this is twice as long as usual. I am preparing for the next arc during which the events of the story really start to kick off. We're getting closer to discovering more about the Master and other important reveals.**_

 _ **Recap time: Kilgharrah spits out an amazing prophecy and confuses the heck out of Arthur, Arthur insults a dragon, and Mary Dursley (who turns out to just be using Kay (or is she?)) and is spying for the Master.**_

 _ **Um, I just about typed the Master's real name. I think that I secretly just want to reveal his identity NOW. But I have to wait. I already know how I'm going to reveal it. I've dropped subtle hints here and there and everywhere. But I'm not going to go out and say it.**_

-"The Shire" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

-"Rey's Theme" by John Williams (Star Wars)

-"Jurassic Park Theme" by John Williams (Jurassic Park)

-"Hunith's Letter to Gaius" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"Arthur and Gwen Theme" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

 _ **I do not pretend to be an expert on alcohol. If I am wrong about its effects in the first part of the chapter, I apologize.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Pre- and Post-Rebellion

When he woke up that late March morning, Kay Thomas had a splitting headache, and alcohol was to blame. As usual. His father and Arthur both tried to convince him to stop, but their efforts were futile. Kay loved the strong taste, and there wasn't anything they could do or say to stop him.

Anyway, neither of them were home. Ector wasn't due back for another week, and Arthur... Kay did not know where he went. He wasn't sober when Arthur left. Most of his memories were a blur. Vaguely, Kay remembered that Arthur went to a friends' place. No big deal.

 _I need a morning drink._ Drinking did not help with hangovers; actually, it would only make things worse, but since when did Kay listen to reason? Wobbling, he stood up from the once-pristine white armchair. There were now blotchy brown stains over its surface. _Did I do that?_

Someone was snoring on the other couch, a puddle of drool pooling in Darcy's lap. Sean and Ian left ages ago with Bella, but Mary was passed out in Arthur's bedroom, having gotten there late to speak to her father.

Kay's foot rolled over an object on the ground: the Father Christmas bottle opener. He lovingly picked it up and jammed it in his back pocket, not even considering that the amount of force applied could have broken the gift. With Kay, there was no such thing as reason. It was just drinks, drinks, and more drinks.

He threw open the refrigerator door. Once upon a time, it had been stocked with healthy foods. Now there were leftover pizzas and bottles of mead. Kay took one of the bottles, his hand unsteady. He popped the top off, and it flew out of reach. Then Kay took a nice swig, enjoying the burning sensation as the liquid rolled down his throat. He gasped in satisfaction.

Kay smacked his lips before taking another sip. Again, he savored its usually vile taste, but his body had gotten so used to the flavor that it did not affect him anymore. Another sip. His body, _the pain_ , started to numb. Another sip. Again and again, he drank until the whole bottle was downed.

Kay would have grabbed a second one when he heard a yawn. Mary walked in, her hair matted and uneven. There were dark circles under her eyes. The phoenix tattoo on her forearm was more prominent than usual against her colorless skin. She was only dressed in an orange t-shirt and underwear. Kay pretended to not notice the scabs on her legs.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," he cooed.

Mary rolled her eyes, forcing a laugh. "Eight in the morning, and you are already fifty percent drunk. Only you, Kayleb. Only you."

Kay stuck out his tongue. He rarely went by his full name, but Mary used it to annoy him, even if it was good-natured. She grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants from the floor. Technically, they belonged to Kay, but ehh. He did not really care if she borrowed his clothes. He usually wore the same shirt for an entire week, only changing when someone called him out on it.

"Then you've not met Darcy, then." Guffawing, Kay pointed at the Irishman out cold in the living room. "I don't think I've ever seen him sober."

Mary laughed, but it was an uneasy laugh. Like she was hiding something. "Yeah. Right, have me there." She smiled, but Kay noted that it did not quite reach her eyes.

"Are you okay? Do you need another drink?" Kay gave the refrigerator a wide berth.

Mary shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm fine. Actually, I-I want to talk to you." She shuffled closer to him.

"Spill."

She ran a hand along his chin, hesitant. "I have a proposition; a job offer in fact. You will need to trust me, though."

"I trust you!" Kay objected goofily.

She did not laugh and glanced away in shame. "You shouldn't."

* * *

Arthur examined his pocketknife, staring at the golden dragon image embellished on the blade. It was a fine piece, he had to admit that. Even if it originally came from someone trying to control his destiny. Come to think of it, it might have even been the same blade that wounded him and caused Merlin to come to his aid.

 _Merlin_. He was hiding something. Arthur was sure of it. He had been unusually quiet since the visit to Kilgharrah's cave. Arthur tried to ask him about it, but Merlin claimed that it was too late. Then, when Arthur woke up, he found a note saying that Merlin was off entertaining at a little kid's birthday party ( _How else would I obtain my income? Washing socks?_ )***

Arthur trusted Merlin. After all, he saved his life. Multiple times, actually. He cared for Arthur, more than he did for himself, and he could see that. However, Arthur was frustrated that Merlin was keeping things from him. Again. _Like, what can I possibly do? Execute him? I'd get arrested for murder._ However, when he thought about it, maybe Merlin was not in the legal system. Arthur shivered.

He started when he heard a soft rap on the window. Cautiously, Arthur glanced outside. The sky was obscured by stormy grey clouds. Despite the gloom, the object against the glass shone brightly, golden like Merlin's eyes whenever he used magic. It was long and pointed, like a unicorn's horn. _Oh._

Arthur unlocked the window and threw it open. The glass rattled and threatened to give way to gravity, yet, ultimately, it held true. He hung his head out the window and found himself face to face with the unicorn who bowed to him a few days ago.

Unicorns signified purity. Likewise, there was a childlike innocence in its sapphire-colored eyes. However, at the same time, there was an ancient wisdom that screamed reincarnation. In some ways, the foal reminded Arthur of Merlin, pure but ancient and wise.

Arthur reached out slowly, afraid of frightening off the creature, but the creature did not flinch away. It nuzzled its horn against his open palm. He grasped the slick surface with a calm manner. Arthur was amazed with its openness towards him. It was trusting of him, and no matter what Arthur did to suggest otherwise, it continued to follow him it seemed. Even though Arthur did nothing yet, he knew that it would stay loyal to him. _Also like Merlin. Even though he still can't trust me after all this time._

"You trust me, don't you?" Arthur murmured soothingly as he ran his fingers through its silvery hair with his free hand. He did not expect a response, so when it nodded, Arthur jumped. Thinking he imagined it, Arthur reclaimed his composure and continued stroking its mane. It was probably just a natural instinct, anyway.

It was strange. The rainwater should have went through the open window into his bedroom, or at the very least, it should have been sloshing all around his face and hand. Contrary to that statement, it went around his body like it had a force shield around him, splashing off an invisible surface and rolling down the dome away from the house. _Okay, this is getting a little weird. Merlin's doing, no doubt._

"You know, you need a name, especially if you're going to continue to stalk me," Arthur wondered aloud. It stared into his eyes, blue on blue, and seemed to shake its head in agreement. Arthur widened his eyes but shrugged it off. There was no way that it could have possibly understood him.

His tutor taught him a few things worth knowing. One of these things was a poem known as "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner." It was about this sailor who brought misfortune upon his vessel when he shot the luck-bringing bird. The white-feathered bird was known as an albatross. Arthur found it to be a fitting name.

"Does Albatross work?" For the third time, it nodded, and Arthur could not call it a trick of the light anymore. The unicorn could understand him. _The bloody unicorn can hear me. A unicorn. How is this possible? Am I now a parselmouth for unicorns now?_

"Please tell me you can't talk, too," Arthur chuckled. It shook its head no. _Thank the Lord. I don't know if I could deal with a talking unicorn on top of everything else._ That should be the least of his worries. This entire week has been weird. Magic, immortal servants, talking dragons, unicorns that worshiped him and understood him, and the fact that he was a _bloody king._

Oh, and then there was that jacked-up prophecy. Broken coins, souls, witches, and immortal blades? Arthur did not know what it all meant. The Great Dragon was off its rocker about that stuff, and Merlin too for thinking that he was being helpful.

 _However…_

However, part of what he could understand made sense. The prophecy was written for his ears, not Merlin's, not anyone else's. Arthur was the Once and Future King. He had finally returned to the land of Albion, even though if it was now called Europe. Merlin was Emrys and was immortal. _However, magic has certainly_ not _returned.***_

The unicorn nudged the blond's pale hand, gesturing for him to come outside. Arthur retracted his arm, set on obeying Albatross. He scooped up the leather jacket from the back of the wicker desk chair and covered his arms with it. Arthur pocketed the Pendragon knife and patted down his pants pockets for his watch. He felt the circular shape and advised him to make sure that it was always safe. It may have just been a birthday present to Arthur, but maybe there was some real importance to it.

He climbed out the window, not feeling like using the door. Albatross trotted forward, scuffing up the dirt with its front left hoof. Arthur approached it steadily. He kept his breath even.

"So, what do you want to show me?" Albatross craned its slender neck backward, motioning for Arthur to get on its back. Arthur frowned. He rode horses before, but never bareback. It would be rude to try and locate a saddle (if Merlin even owned one), but that did not staunch Arthur's reluctance. Besides, it was only a baby, and Arthur doubted Albatross's strength with its youth.

Then it let out a ninny. It almost sounded like a scoff coming from the youthful creature. Albatross might be sensing Arthur's doubts, and it head-butted him stubbornly. Arthur, feeling very foolish, mounted Albatross. To his relief, the unicorn did not crumple under his weight. Then it broke off into a run, and Arthur did all that he could to hang on.

* * *

It slowed down once they reached a lake. The water was a pristine blue, and there was an island in the middle with a circular tower. Off in the distance, Arthur saw the silhouettes of modern buildings. _Weird that I've never really noticed this lake or that humanity hasn't trashed it yet._

His blond hair was windswept. Arthur did not have a comb on him, so he made do with what he had. He dismounted from the young steed and crept up to the bank of the water. Using his hands, Arthur smoothed his hair, but then he noticed the reflection of the woman in the water and jumped back in surprise.

She had flowing brown hair and dark brown eyes. Her smile was soft and cheerful. She appeared to be wearing a dress of elegant purple. Her hands were folded around the hilt of a sword.

Arthur blinked a few times to be sure it was not part of his imagination. It was not. She really was there in the lake.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked in a guarded voice.

Her smile never faltered. "Freya, the Lady of the Lake. I'm a…friend of Merlin's." Her eyes took on a doting look.

She called Merlin by his real name, not by Emrys. If this was a trick, then Arthur did not pay attention to the possibility. "Did you send the unicorn to get me?"

"No, that would have been I." This voice was elderly, and male. Arthur watched as a hooded man materialized in front of him dressed in a light grey tatty robe. He carried a forked staff.

"And you are?"

"Anhora, Keeper of the Unicorns, Arthur Pendragon. It's been a long time since I've had the pleasure of speaking to you."

Arthur snorted. "Oh, and is magic personified here too?"

"No." Anhora's face stayed neutral. "That would be Emrys, or Merlin as you might prefer to know him."

Arthur blanched. He meant it as a joke. "Err, right. So why was I brought here? And where is _here_ anyway?"

Freya answered, "This is the Lake of Avalon, the final resting place of both you and I. This is where Merlin laid your body to rest as he did with mine and Sir Lancelot's."

Before Arthur could respond, Anhora added, "You were brought back because of the state the world lies in. Kingdoms threaten to break apart, and mankind threaten to kill themselves off. For if you meant _here_ , then allow me to answer. In order for your destiny to keep moving, you need a beacon of hope, something to fight for."

Arthur protested, "But I already have stuff worth fighting for. My home, my family. Merlin. They are all on the line. What more could I _possibly_ need?"

Anhora stared into the water at Freya's nut brown eyes. The woman nodded once at him. The sorcerer then looked again at Arthur. "Your driving force may always include Camelot and Em-Merlin, but there was something else, one hat with time, you seemed to have forgotten the full extent of it."

Arthur backed away from the water's edge, and Albatross followed. "Where is this going?"

Anhora stepped forward with his hand reaching for Arthur, who cringed. "Relax, Pendragon. It will not hurt. I just will help you remember the Once and Future Queen." Then he touched Arthur's temple, and his vision darkened.***

* * *

 _Arthur, dressed like a peasant, leaned against a tree. He was staying away from Ealdor just for a moment. The situation seemed hopeless. There was no way possible that he could salvage the village. The only reason he was staying was for_ Merlin. _This was his home, and a desolate manservant did not belong in Camelot. Deep down, however, the reason Arthur was staying for Merlin's sake was because he felt like he owed him. Princes do not owe debts to commoners, or to anyone, really._

 _"Arthur," a feminine voice spoke out. The blond turned around to find Guinevere dressed in trousers and holding out a bowl of gruel. "Hunith made you some food." She gave him the bowl._

 _"Thanks," he said blandly. Guinevere nodded and turned on her heel to leave. Arthur crinkled his nose in disgust. This was_ peasant's _stuff, not fit for a future king. "I think."_

 _Of course she heard him. She turned back around and admonished, "Food is scarce for these people. You shouldn't turn your nose up at it."_

 _Arthur gave Guinevere an incredulous look. No one below his social status (with the exception of Merlin, but he's_ Merlin _) ever was brave enough to stand up to the arrogant prince. Now Morgana's maidservant saw fit to disrespect Arthur. He should defend himself._

 _Yet she was right. Disgusting food was better than nothing. Arthur had to learn to appreciate the little things in life. As a king, he could not take his people's kindness for granted. Besides, Gwen was being brave in standing up to Arthur, and he found himself enjoying it._

 _Guinevere remembered her station and shook her head. "Oh no, I shouldn't have spoken like that."_

 _No, she shouldn't have, but she did, and Arthur felt a twinge of respect for the serving girl._

 _"I'm sorry." Guinevere turned in the direction of the Essetirian village, feeling humiliated._

 _Arthur called out, "Gwen."_

 _She did not stop. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. It won't happen again, I swear." Arthur felt pity as well. She was scared that she would be punished for speaking out. Scared of_ him _, Arthur. He did not want to be feared. He was_ not _his father._

 _Arthur rolled his eyes. "Guine_ vere _." A smile danced on his lips._

 _She stopped walking and turned again towards him. Guinevere's hands were folded in front of her like a servant waiting for orders. She stared obediently at him._

 _"Thank you." A look of confusion flashed in her chocolate eyes. "You were right..." Arthur hesitated, mainly because of his overlarge ego. "And you were right to speak out. I should have listened to you and Morgana." The idea of women fighting made Arthur wary, but there was no other choice. He mumbled, "We're going to need all the help we can get."_

 _Guinevere stepped forward and assured with a regal voice, "We'll be_ fine _."_

 _Arthur's heart stung, and he knew that he could not live with himself if the opposite held true. "How can you be so sure?"***_

 _"Because I have faith in you." Arthur narrowed his eyes, and she covered her tracks with, "I mean, we all do." The comment sounded so forced, even if there was some truth behind it. Guinevere could not speak for others, but Arthur was happy that she could speak for herself._

 _And then Arthur knew that he cared for her. She was his friend in some ways. There was something about Guinevere that made his heart jump with joy whenever he saw her. He wanted to talk about these feelings aloud. He wanted to tell her how he felt._

 _Instead he said, "Thank you."_

 _She nodded with a smile on her face. Then Guinevere bowed and walked off._

* * *

And then...

 _Arthur was now wearing the long blue cloak. It concealed his armor and anything else that would identify him as prince of Camelot. Guinevere bowed her head awkwardly right in front of him, color flooding her cheeks._

 _"One more match, and the tournament will be over," Arthur stated at a failure of an attempt to start conversation. The memories of last night were still fresh on his mind._

 _Arthur felt an emptiness inside. This was it, the last night that he could stay with Guinevere. Sure, they would still see each other in the castle, but it wouldn't be the same. Last night awoke feelings inside of him that he could never explain. He's never felt this way about anyone. Not until Gwen came along._

 _She smiled. "You could go back to being Prince Arthur." But she was not mocking him. There was kindness in Guinevere's eyes._

 _He nodded, his smile turning more into a grimace. Back into a prat, as Merlin would say. Granted, he always was a prattish prince, but he felt more free these last few days than he did his entire life._

 _"Um..." Guinevere looked down, revealing a white cloth. "I thought you might wear it...for luck." In monetary value, it was worth little, but in Arthur's eyes, it was worth the world._

 _"Thank you."_

 _He took it, but it would not bring luck. No, there was something else Arthur wanted, something that he's been craving for a while now. Today might just be his last chance to get it._

 _So Prince Arthur went in for the kiss. He did it entirely out of impulse, not thinking about how Guinevere would react. He leaned forward, placing his mouth on her own. He took her body into his arms. If anyone were to see this scene, the gossip would be overwhelming, but Arthur only wanted to be with Guinevere right now._

 _After a moment's surprise, but to Arthur's delight, Guinevere kissed back. Her lips were warm and tasted like strawberries. She seemed happy, too. Arthur dared to hope that she had always wanted the same. Sunlight pored in through the windows. The moment was beautiful. Arthur wanted it to last forever._

* * *

And then...

 _The doors flied open with a crash. Morgana's emerald eyes flashed in anger as she strode into Arthur's rooms as he packed the supplies for his journey into a knapsack. He already wore his mail, and his weapons were ready. However, his stepsister paid these no mind as she yelled, "How could you be so heartless?!"_

 _Arthur, heartless? It was because of his heart that he was going after Guinevere in the first place. He could not completely ignore his feelings for her any longer. He_ loved _her. Even Uther could not stop him._

 _And was Morgana_ crying _? She seemed like that she was as she pleaded/screamed, "Gwen is the most kind,_ loyal _person you would ever meet, and she has been more than a friend_ to all of us! _" She spat out the last part. Arthur barely managed to keep from laughing out loud. Morgana could make a great queen one day with her determination. Could._

 _She was not done. No, nowhere near it. "And_ YOU _would leave her at the mercy of those_ animals _!"_

 _"Morgana," he said, hunched over and grabbing more supplies._

 _"Have you no shame?!" Morgana did not listen to him. She never did when she was in one of her tantrums. She's been like this ever since she was a child. "Do you think of no one but_ YOURSELF _?!"_

 _He packed his short sword. "Morg_ ana _."_ I swear, does she ever even think to listen and pay attention? Someone could be hiding a secret, and she would be too angry to notice.

 _"I knew you were many things, Arthur Pendragon, but I didn't know that you were a HEARTLESS_ COWARD _!"_

 _And Arthur raised his voice at that. "MORGANA." That caught her attention. She glared at him with spite. Continuing with his tone, Arthur pointed out, "Perhaps if you were to stop shouting at me for one second, you would notice that I am packing." Grinning cheerily, Arthur shut his backpack with more exaggeration than he originally intended._

 _She stared at the pack, guilt rising in her eyes. Morgana bowed her head. Arthur got a better look at the dirt all over her face and the cut on her cheek and was impressed that she hadn't felt the need to get it properly looked at. Morgana shook her head, and with a softer tone, she said, "You're going after Gwen."_

 _"Of course I'm going after her, what do you take me for? I couldn't disagree with Father in public." Arthur gave her a grim look and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Then he shoved his way past._

 _"Arthur!" Morgana yelled as he reached the door. He turned around, hope filling his chest. Her eyes reminded him of a puppy's, a green-eyed puppy's. "Bring her home."_

 _Arthur smiled, knowing that he could not fail. He was going to bring_ his _Guinevere home._

* * *

And then...

 _There was a burning pain on Arthur's abdomen. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed in an only-slightly-less unfamiliar room with a_ very _familiar person. Guinevere._

 _He was confused. Didn't he banish her? A dark memory resurfaced. He_ did _. She betrayed him by going after Lancelot, only using him so that she could become queen._

 _So why was Guinevere dutifully tending to his wounds? He did not deserve it, least of all from her. He let Camelot fall, trusted Agravaine when he betrayed him and helped Morgana. And he sent Guinevere away so that he did not have to face his mistakes._

 _But all Arthur felt was relief that she was alive and well. "Guinevere."_

 _She smiled, pain evident in her eyes. She was probably remembering the reason why she was sent into exile. "Hello, Arthur."_

 _He sat up steadily so that he did not irritate the injuries on his stomach. Arthur took a good look at her face to be sure that she was real and not a part of his imagination. Guinevere was real._

 _"What are you doing here?"_

 _She shrugged sadly. "It's as good a place as any." Translation: it's a good place, but not as great as Camelot, her home. Arthur felt a little guilt before it was swallowed up by his sense of pride._

 _He stared into her eyes, the chocolate windows to the soul, and all Arthur wanted was to be with her again. Why should it matter that she kissed Lancelot? If her love for him had been fake, then she would not have treated Arthur. She could have let him die, and he would not have blamed her._

 _Her voice took a grave turn. "I've missed you."_

 _He wanted to say something to make her feel bad._ Should have thought of that before kissing Lancelot _. Instead, "And I you."_

 _The two shared a smile. Arthur knew that he still had feelings for the former serving girl. He never let anything stand in the way of them. Not his father, not his uncle, not his sister, not Lancelot. It was his_ love _for Guinevere that made him realize that he did not want to see her dead. That was the_ only _reason that he banished her. It was either that or death._

 _Slowly, he pushed himself up into a vertical position. Arthur ignored his lack of a shirt. Right now, all that mattered was_ Gwen _. Guinevere._ His _Guinevere._

 _They embraced. Guinevere was gentle as she caressed him, wrapping her arms in a way so as to not reawaken the pain in his body. She grasped his shoulder, and Arthur positioned his hands underneath her arms and around her waist. The two continued to hold each other in that way for the rest of the night, forgetting that they were peasant and king. They forgot the circumstances leading to Guinevere leaving in the first place. They forgot the laws of the land. They forgot everything but each other._

 _Tonight, they were two lovers reunited once again. They were the Once and Future King and Queen._

* * *

 ** _Okay, so I did not even intend for Anhora to be in this story at all. Then somehow, he ended up being the one to send the unicorn Albatross. His name is a direct reference to the poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. I chose it originally because of its color (both creatures are a pure white), then I remembered what happened when the narrator killed the Albatross, and then I connected it to the unicorn._**

 ** _I am going to tell you now, the flashbacks at the end are among many, but I did not want to write out entire interactions, so I just chose four to write so that you got the idea._**

 ** _This was a very Merlin-less chapter._**

 ** _And then there is Kay. We'll be seeing more of him in the future. Finally. Again, I compare him to Gwaine a lot._**

 ** _I've managed to get my sister into Merlin. She is currently shipping Merlin and Gwen, but we all know the truth XD_**

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, Pompous Butterfly, AndreKl, ScruffydaDruid, Red Moon Lollipop, rmatri540, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you mersan123, Walluruby, moroflake, ScruffydaDruid, KaylaFlaishans, Pompous Butterfly, XxTheMoonRiddlexX, rmatri540, Irisofthesky, LILI . Namikaze, and Red Moon Lollipop for following._**

 ** _Thank you Shiruu, ScruffydaDruid, Lala3200001, LILI . Namikaze, rmatri540, and morbidbookworm for favoriting._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	14. Provider

_**Hello again. This is Lya200 with another chapter for "Arthur." We are this close *pressed fingers together tightly* to this huge moment. I feel like I've hinted at it (since I've had it planned for months now), and hopefully some of your questions will be answered then.**_

 _ **However, before we reach the end of this developmental-arc (that's what I'm calling the different periods of chapters), we have to go through this chapter and next chapter. These two chapters will hopefully fix any plotholes and at the same time prep for chapter 16's events.**_

 _ **The title for this chapter is a reference to Anhora providing the memories to Arthur AND the fact that Merlin's been providing for the prat for the past week.**_

 ** _Previously, we dropped in on Kay who is talking to Mary, and Arthur follows the unicorn to Avalon and starts talking to Anhora and Freya. Anhora makes Arthur remember Guinevere._**

-"Beyond the Forest" by Howard Shore (The Hobbit)

-"The Farting Princess" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"Hagrid the Professor" by John Williams (Harry Potter)

 ** _I have nothing else to say. Thanks for reading this :)_**

 ** _Okay, yes I do. I could have had this posted an hour or so again. Instead I started watching Merlin deleted scenes when I should have been searching music. Why did they remove the sigil?! *bawls* Or anything from those episodes? Heck, Arthur almost calls Merlin his friend in Season 3! Then, when Uther dies, Arthur had admitted his plan to use magic to Gwen! I want to cry. Then there are all the scenes about fathers being proud of Arthur and Merlin. Gwen had advised Arthur to follow his instincts, and then Merlin's worried that he does not listen to them anymore. Who was the fool that cut out all these brilliant and beautiful scenes? Oh yeah, the same person who gave us "Lancelot du Lac."_**

 ** _Now I'm done._**

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Provider

Then the wizened man removed his palms from Arthur's forehead. After seemingly hours of being flooded with scenes of the past, it came to no surprise that Arthur was pale and dizzy. He wobbled, very much disoriented. He projected an arm to steady himself, catching hold on Albatross's neck.

Arthur panted, "What _was_ that?" There had been so many images that he could not entirely describe, each sharing the same common denominator. Suddenly things were clearer than before, yet just as confusing.

Anhora clutched his wizard's staff with both hands. "What I showed you but moments ago are your memories, or at least they were the memories of the man you once were. Specifically, I showed you the memories pertaining to your love of Lady Guinevere."

Guinevere. She _did_ frequent his visions quite a bit, second only to Merlin and possibly Morgana. Arthur had known that they were close and that she was his queen, but there had always been something missing. Now he knew: it was the _love_. It was more than a two-dimensional plane; the love was three-dimensional and full of life. It resonated now in Arthur's heart, beating alongside.

"Guinevere?" Arthur voiced in awe. His ocean-colored eyes widened, and he felt like a boy again, a child full to the brim with curiosity. They met with the silvery blue eyes of Anhora. "Why?"

"Why?" Anhora smiled benevolently. "I thought that you would already know."

Arthur shut his eyes, in an attempt to block out the rest of the world. Kilgharrah called her the Once and Future Queen. If he was the _Once and Future King_ , and Arthur had been born again, was it safe to say that she was here as well? "Is-is she here as well?"

"Not yet." Anhora pursed his colorless lips mysteriously. "The manner of her return is up to you."

Arthur's mouth hung open, but no sound escaped. Where was she in all of this if not by his side? Could Merlin know more? Yet Arthur was hesitant to ask the warlock. He started acting strangely whenever Arthur brought up the topic.

"How would I know?" It has been a question of Arthur's for a while. How on Earth was he supposed to know how she can return? The blond was not even sure if this was entirely real or if it was just a cruel hope curtesy of Anhora.

Then the old man did something strange. He bowed his head and whispered something into Arthur's ear. Arthur did not think that he could ever forget it even if he tried. The words flowed together as one, rhythmic and comforting. There was a great deal of power behind them, echoed from prophecies voiced long ago in a land of myth and a time of magic. Arthur listened intently, in awe of all that had been destined long before his rebirth.

Anhora pulled away, smiling warmly at the Once and Future King. "Good luck, young Pendragon." Then he was gone as quickly as he came, with a swish of his cloak and a wave of his hand.

Albatross nuzzled its head against Arthur's hips, its horn rubbing in careful precision so that he did not harm Arthur. Arthur looked in the direction of the lake. Freya's reflection was still there. Her teeth glistened white like pearls. _Why was she still smiling?_

The young man stalked over to the shoreline with Albatross following behind in a steady trot. Arthur crouched down and experimentally dipped his hands in the water where she was. He could have sworn that he felt wet hair, but then his hand passed through. The image never faltered despite the waves he created.

While she kept one hand rested on the elegant pommel of the sword, Freya reached through the water. Instead of disappearing, the palm escaped the surface. Without thinking, Arthur took it. Her grip was strong. There was warmth in her nut eyes, some form of love if Arthur had to describe it. Freya rubbed her index finger in a circular fashion in the pit of Arthur's hand.

"Arthur, you must go now," she whispered then. Her voice was almost inaudible, but the blond felt as though he could hear it as clear as day. "Merlin's looking for you."

Arthur frowned, suddenly feeling unsure if he wanted Merlin's concern, or if he even deserved it. "I'll find a way to bring back Guinevere fulfill my destiny. I promise."

If that was the right thing to say, he never found out, for it was that moment that Merlin chose to come into view. He carried his ivory-coloured staff with the magical blue stone. The gem was shining and reflecting a soft blue beam of light. This was most likely due to the presence of the magical lake. _Avalon_.

Merlin narrowed his cobalt eyes at Arthur. "Why can't you just stay still?" he admonished. "You prat."

Arthur nearly shrunk under the gaze. Past the obvious annoyance, there was a level of fondness in Merlin's eyes. Beyond that, however, there was also a peek at his magical prowess. It was potent to the highest degree, and Arthur did not have to ask how Merlin knew where he was.

"Do not blame the boy," a feminine voice rose from the water. Merlin looked over Arthur's shoulder and into the lake. His agitated look softened.

"Freya."

The Lady of the Lake nodded once. "It wasn't like he was entirely shielded from your view. You were able to find him almost immediately." Freya brought her hand down back into the water. "Good luck. Both of you." When Arthur blinked, she was gone.

Albatross, almost guiltily, came upon Merlin. It awkwardly bowed its head in apology before turning around and running back through the trees. Merlin's gaze followed it for a moment before refocusing on Arthur.

The bearded warlock scowled and took Arthur by the shoulders. The younger man thought that he heard some muttered curses under Merlin's wretched breath. However, Arthur knew that all was forgiven. Now, that did not mean that Merlin was not going to admonish Arthur until the end of time. The only thing Arthur could not figure out was why Merlin was back so soon and what he wanted in the first place.

"What?" Arthur asked of boredom.

Merlin chastised, "What the devil were you thinking, just running off like that. I don't care how many unicorns they send after you; the least you could have done was leave a note. At least then I wouldn't have scrambled about like a chicken with its head cut off trying to look for you. Do you know how it was coming home to find that you were gone?"

Before, Arthur might have been guilty, but the warlock had been keeping his own secrets from Arthur. The young man shook off the older man. "Well, it wasn't like you couldn't find me. I was here the whole time."

The next line Merlin said made Arthur's blood run cold. "No you weren't."

Then Arthur stopped completely. He wasn't _here_? But he was here for _ages_ it seemed like. When Anhora supplied him with the memories of Guinevere, Arthur was sure that he stayed by the lake. At least, that is where he woke up. The blond shivered.

He waved his hand dismissively. "What are you talking about, Merlin?"

Merlin released Arthur. "When I couldn't find you at my house, I tried scrying you. I figured that I would be able to locate you even if I did not recognize the place."

"And..."

The warlock shifted. "You weren't anywhere specific; you were _everywhere_. The magic that powers my scrying ran amuck. You were all over the place. The forest, around where Ealdor used to be, the ruins of Camelot..."

"Camelot?" Arthur coughed. He had no doubt that Anhora had something to do with his transportation. Yes, it was his mind that was transported to the memories so that he saw them clearer than before. Was it possible that Arthur _himself_ was transported through _time and place_?

"Yes," Merlin said with a nod. "All I could catch were flashes, you were moving so quickly that I could not find you. Then you just...stopped, and I saw you at the Lake of Avalon, so...here I am."

Arthur did not speak. Birdsong filled the empty air around them. A light breeze played with Arthur's golden hair and Merlin's silver beard. Arthur stared off at the glimpse of human civilization off in the distance. Merlin did too, and his cobalt eyes widened.

"Ah, yes, the reason why I left work early... It's time for me to bring you back."

A pit formed in Arthur's stomach. "Oh." _Did I even belong in modern-day society anymore? Or did I ever?_ "But Ector should not return for another week."

"And Kay will get even more suspicious if you are gone much longer. You have less friends than a hermit."

"And how many hermits have you met?"

Merlin smirked. "Me, myself, and I. Come on, clotpole." He gripped Arthur's jacket sleeve. "I take it that you took everything useful with you?"

"Just my watch and my knife," Arthur admitted. "I didn't have enough time to grab the rest of my stuff." His rucksack was still lying abandoned in his bedroom.

"Close enough." Merlin shrugged. "So, I've never exactly done this before, but..."

Arthur squirmed. "But...?"

"Taken someone along for quote "side-along apparition." Should be fun."

Arthur closed his eyes. "Oh God help me."

Merlin laughed, his annoyance with Arthur subsided. "Get ready, dollop-head." Merlin squeezed tightly on Arthur's arm.

There was some muttering in a different language, then nothing. Arthur felt a whoosh in the air, then stillness.

* * *

They stood in front of Arthur's house. All the lights were off, not unusual considering it was daylight, but Arthur did not feel comfortable. He was not worried that someone would have seen them; almost everyone should have been at work. He wiggled his arm out of Merlin's protective grasp and stumbled a few feet towards the door. Cautiously, he turned the knob. Instead of being locked, the movement jostled the door, and it blew open with a _creak_.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" Arthur muttered, fear rising up in his throat. He made to enter the building, but Merlin shook his head, heartfelt warning in his eyes.

"Arthur, we can't just walk in. It could be a trap. _Homenum Revelio_." He had whispered the spell. Nothing happened. "Okay, no problem. We're alone. Completely normal."

"Isn't that spell from _Harry Potter_?"

Merlin raised his brow. "And where do you think they got it from, prat? Wikipedia?" The wizened warlock stepped aside and mock-curtseyed towards the door. "After you, Sire."

Arthur scoffed, pushed the warlock's arm out of the way, and entered the residence. The very first thing that popped up in his mind was that it was quiet. There was no one inside, as Merlin's spell had revealed. In fact, there was trash from the day that Arthur had left, and maybe a little from a few days after. Arthur felt like he had sufficient reason to believe that this lonely house hadn't seen people for days. He plugged his nose after almost retching at the stench of moldy food, primarily pizza. Half-empty bottles of alcohol were turned on their side, spilling out onto the ground in sticky puddles from their perch on the armrest of the couch.

Arthur crept forward for any clues of where his brother might be. "Kay?" Arthur called out half-heartedly despite the clear evidence that no one was here. He went to the coffee table. On top of the plain wood, he found a crumpled up and used napkin. Arthur flipped it over in hopes of finding a note scrawled on the back. Instead, the blond found nothing.

He scrunched up the napkin in his fist and then dropped it onto the floor. Arthur stepped past it. He barely made any sound as he walked to the kitchen counter. It could do with a good wiping down. Clearly no one's touched it for a while. His finger left tracks as he dragged it through the build-up of dust. When Arthur opened the fridge, he was met with mead and left-overs. He slammed the refrigerator door shut, groaning.

"Hey, Arthur, you might want to see this." Arthur turned back and left the kitchen. Merlin was examining something close to the stairs, his expression grave. Arthur inhaled and moved to stand beside him. There was a dark puddle. Fearing the worst, Arthur bent down and rubbed his fingers in the vile substance. He sniffed it, and immediately his nose scrunched up. However, he nearly laughed out in relief.

"Red wine." That was Kay. Always drinking without stop. Arthur wiped the sticky substance on his trousers' leg.

"I know that, clotpole." Merlin defended, annoyed. "But don't you find it strange that there's red wine here when I know for a fact that he nearly only drinks mead, sometimes something else, but he almost never had wine. When was the last time he had wine?"***

"That is a very good question," Arthur admitted, now concerned. The consumption of wine at the Thomas household was a rare occasion. "Maybe one of Kay's friends brought it?"

"That may be the case." Merlin stared at the maroon stain, his eyes showing that he did not believe it. "I expect that Ector would not appreciate the mess."

"Ugh, _Kay_ should be the one to clean it up!" Arthur griped, the worry vanishing and being replaced by annoyance towards the irresponsible man-child. He did not feel like cleaning up someone else's mess.

"He should, yes, but he's not here," Merlin reminded.

"Can't you just use some hocus pocus on the room or something?"

That caught Merlin's attention. His cheekbones rose, and he wiped away a fake tear humourously. "You're actually letting me _cheat_ with the chores? I thought this day would never come." He cleared his throat. " _Ábÿwan sé béodærn._ "

The room started to straighten itself out. Arthur was almost impressed by the display of magic as it made his home habitable again. Arthur flicked the light switch on while the graceful broom magically swept the floor, followed by the elegantly-dancing mop. A dishrag leapt from place to place wiping up the alcoholic spills. The brunt of Merlin's magic was focused on removing the stains from the furniture. The magic relentlessly scrubbed at the brown blotches on the microfibers.

At least nothing seemed to be broken. While Arthur was sure that Merlin could fix whatever was broken, he did not want to have to deal with the problem in the first place. He heaved a sigh of relief when the alcohol stains came up from the couch. Paper towels were now dusting off the grimy countertop. He was glad that they had curtains because the pizza boxes and the bottles were now parading to the trash-bag that was open wide like a mouth (though the curtains did not matter since everyone was at work). Arthur slow-clapped. _Of course, Merlin's sense of humour demanded this reckless display._

He sniffed. The air was still a little funky, though the rooms looked much better. "I'm going to find some air freshener," he announced. Merlin's only response was a slight nod, but he was mainly focused on tackling the last of the stains. Arthur went back to the kitchen and opened the cabinet underneath the sink. As he did so, a badger leaped out from under there and scampered out into the kitchen. Arthur yelped from surprise and jumped back.

"Is everything all right in there?" Merlin called from the other room, an anxious edge in his voice. The badger, hypnotically of course, then stopped running amuck and went through the doorway into the living room. There was a nasally snort. "It's a bloody badger, Arthur."

"Yeah, I've got that now, _Mer_ lin." Sheepishly, Arthur pulled out the canister of freshener. After a light spray in the kitchen, he marched back into the living room to find Merlin rubbing the spiky scruff of the animal.

"What," Arthur asked incredulously, "are you doing? That _thing_ could be diseased."

Merlin shrugged. "I've got it enchanted. Look." He swatted at the face of the animal. It attempted to bite him, but its sluggish reactions provided ample amount of time for Merlin to move his hand out of the way. "See, it can't hurt me."***

"You're a bloody idiot." But Merlin heard him.

"Says the prat who has been following unicorns all afternoon." Arthur closed his eyes. The old Merlin was surfacing again, more than ever. There was less and less of that over-protective sorcerer who saved his life. Granted, he was still there keeping secrets and protecting Arthur, but the banter was strengthening more and more each day.

Merlin put his hands on his hips proudly. The door opened, and, with a comical salute, the badger left the premises. Then Merlin dusted his hands. "There, now I have a half-decent place to sleep tonight."

"You're sleeping here?" Arthur questioned as he shook the spray-can. He sprayed, and the air started to smell of citrus oranges.

"Of course. It's only fair seeing as you have been freeloading off of my generosity for the past week." Arthur tilted his head and brought it back up, agreeing. After all, Merlin was right. For that past week, Arthur has been doing nothing but badger Merlin for information, all the while sleeping inside his own home. He was also the one who invited himself in the first place.

Then the fully robed man lounged across the couch and fluffed a cushion. "Your room is clean enough, though there is the distinct smell of horses in there...and other animals."

Before the visions, Arthur might have been bothered, but some of the memories of Guinevere featured the use of horses. He could even go as far as to say that the smell didn't bother him anyway. "Sounds good to me." _Who knows, I might get a little more time to think about Guinevere._ "G'night."

Arthur ascended the steps. When he was at the top of the stairs, he looked over the railing. Merlin was still stretched out on the couch, as old and frail as ever. If Arthur didn't know better, he'd say that Merlin was not hiding anything, even though he clearly was. After holding his gaze on the immortal warlock, Arthur shook his head and went inside his bedroom. Which smelled like horses. And cats. Arthur was not fond of cats.

* * *

 _ **All right, some humor. We can work with that. Now, I am correct with spelling "-or words" "-our" for the British spelling, right? My computer keeps saying that is wrong, but I'm trying to incorporate British grammar into the stories because they take place in England.**_

 _ **"Homenum Revelio" is a reference to Harry Potter. "**_ ** _Ábÿwan sé béodærn" translates to "Cleanse the room," only I could not use the right accent over the y._**

 ** _Speaking of Harry Potter references, I was reading The Cursed Child the other day, and I was left in a state of shock. Remember several chapters ago with the walk through the forest (I think it was called Phantoms), and remember how in my author's note I mentioned that I was going to borrow a few creatures from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? In that chapter, I only used one creature, though I have intentions to use a few others. What was the creature I used? The augurey. I used the AUGUREY BEFORE I read The Cursed Child. I don't think I called it by name, but it was that under-fed vulture thing. Yep, story of my life. Not many seemed to know what the augurey was until the book came out because few owned Fantastic Beasts._**

 ** _By the way, can someone just magically send me enough money to fly to London and see The Cursed Child? Please?_**

 ** _I know that I am loosely referencing one of the older Disney movies with the dancing cleaning supplies, but my memory is failing me. I can't remember which one. I have just received word that one of the movies is Sleeping Beauty, but I feel like I have seen it elsewhere too. Did Merlin ever cheat on his chores like this in canon? I remember that he would use magic to make shoes tiptoe and keys fly, but I don't know about brooms and mops._**

 ** _Please, if you have time, feel free to shoot me a review and tell me how much you like, love, or hate this :)_**

 _ **Thank you mersan123, Kyromatronix, Pompous Butterfly, AndreKl, ScruffydaDruid, Red Moon Lollipop, rmatri540, and Guest for reviewing.**_

 ** _Thank you Irisofthesky, Kaseyboy, LILI. Namikaze, Nalia1999, Pompous Butterfly, RUHLSAR000, Red Moon Lollipop, ScruffydaDruid, Wallaruby, XxTheMoonRiddlexX, mersan123, morbidbookworm, moroflake, and rmatri540 for following._**

 ** _Thank you LILI. Namikaze,_** ** _Lala3200001, Nalia1999, ScruffydaDruid, Shiruu, morbidbookworm, and rmatri540_** ** _for favoriting._**

 ** _Read The Prat and the Pauper_**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


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